


With Ideal Grace

by Gryphonheart, LovelyRita1967



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Background Relationships, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Excessive Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Divorce, Protectiveness, Rare Pairings, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Sharing Clothes, Shyness, Slow Burn, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonheart/pseuds/Gryphonheart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967
Summary: A warming story of hurt and comfort, "With Ideal Grace" is set in the modern Witcher AU collection "Food For The Heart," focused on the restaurant where all our favorites work. This is the story of Tissaia de Vries, lonely and anxious and dealing with a messy divorce with Stregobor. As Corvo Bianco's restaurant manager, Tissaia has gotten to be somewhat close with the owner, Regis. When her ex somehow appears at her work to intimidate her, Regis steps in and says that he and Tissaia are engaged, in an effort to keep her safe. With the looming threat of Stregobor, they must keep up the ruse until the legal battle is over. But as time goes on, Tissaia finds herself  developing feelings for her boss...
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Tissaia de Vries
Comments: 271
Kudos: 61
Collections: Food for the Heart (Witcher), The Modern Witcher AU Collection





	1. Drenched and Anxious

**Author's Note:**

> From LovelyRita1967:  
> I wanted to write a soft Regis fic for my friend [Gryphonheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonheart/pseuds/Gryphonheart), and I asked them who I should pair Regis with. They suggested Tissaia, so I wrote [Some Shape of Beauty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129218), which has now launched the Regis/Tissaia ship in our hearts. And when I wrote that fic, I couldn’t help but sneak in a little Geraskier pining (my usual jam), and, wouldn’t you know it, an entire AU was born. Welcome to our Food for the Heart collection. Geralt, Jaskier, Regis, Tissaia, and others work together in Regis’ Italian restaurant, Corvo Bianco. We made it a collection and not a series because the stories sometimes run parallel to each other. I would recommend reading “Some Shape of Beauty” before you start this one! 
> 
> Most of the writing and ideas in this fic belong to Gryphonheart, but I have had so, so much fun writing this with them. And the other thing you should know about Food for the Heart is that there is no such thing as too many tropes. We love tropes. We embrace tropes. They are all here. We hope you enjoy them as much as we do. 
> 
> From Gryphonheart:  
> When I read “Some Shape of Beauty,” I cried. This is the best ship I have ever read, and when that story ended, a new one began in my head, starting with the idea of introducing the “borrowed clothes” trope into the story as LovelyRita1967 had written it. As I wrote, I fell deeper and deeper in love with Regis/Tissaia. I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say that this story has been, and continues to be, a labor of the utmost love. I cannot wait for you to read it, and feel at least a fraction of the joy that I have felt writing it. I will likely be writing Regis/Tissaia for a long time.
> 
> Writing with [LovelyRita1967](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967) has been a wonderful breath of fresh air. It seems whenever I run short of words, and feel the staleness of writer’s block beginning to kick in, or am unable to finish a scene, she steps in with a level of energy that I can only hope to someday attain. She is the wind in my sails, and this story would not exist without her, for many reasons. This whole story of Regis and Tissaia was born from this wonderful person noticing that I was having a bad week, and reaching out to me to say she wanted to write something special just for me, and asked me for a prompt. Huge shoutout to LovelyRita1967, I love you so much <3
> 
> Thank you to our wonderful beta, [Blaire_Seton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton)! 
> 
> This fic will be updated every Monday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Tissaia has a really bad day at work, but it starts to look up when Regis steps in to help.

It was going to be a busy day at Corvo Bianco. The staff had come in extra early to do scheduled maintenance and cleaning, and the restaurant was bustling with movement. Everyone was working to get the place looking and running its very best for the quarterly inspections the next day. They were in no danger of failing, but Regis had announced that he’d rather pass with flying colors, and had offered overtime to come in early. They would open just a little later that day. 

Lambert was cleaning the grills and the fryer, while Geralt and Eskel were scrubbing out the ovens. In the dining room, Triss, Essi, and the other servers and hostesses were cleaning the bar, booths, tables and chairs, while Jaskier was polishing the hardwood floor. Eskel had brought in his stereo, and put on some loud music for them to groove to while they worked. Jaskier had managed to turn scrubbing the floor into a dance move, and was shaking his ass vigorously while he worked.

Regis was in the office going over bookkeeping, while Tissaia was doing inventory and keeping an eye on the goings-on around her. She had been managing Corvo for less than two months, and this was the first big inspection under her watch. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect. 

She was also anxiously waiting for a call from her ex-husband’s lawyer. It was scheduled for “around 9:00 a.m.,” but it was currently 9:30, and she had heard nothing. She checked her phone again. Still nothing. Tissaia sighed irritably, and set her phone down on the shelf so she could count the bags of flour. Having something to do was definitely a big help. Her anxiety was easier to manage when she kept moving and busy.

She frowned at her clipboard. “That can’t actually be how many lemons we have,” she said aloud to no one in particular. She decided there must be quite a stash up front at the bar, and went to go check. After rummaging through the cooler behind the bar and finding only two, she remembered that Geralt’s hit new special, a seafood bruschetta, was served with several wedges of lemon. She made a note on the stock sheet. 

The restaurant was doing better than ever, Regis had told her, and she would need to order more product to keep up with the demand. Satisfied, she beamed down at the paper, and then realized it was the first time she had smiled that day. 

She glanced at the kitchen clock. 9:40. Her hand flew to her pocket to check her phone, and panic set in when she realized it wasn’t there. She was already picturing worst-case scenarios when she remembered setting the phone down on the back room shelf. The music was loud, and she worried she wouldn’t hear the phone ring. She quickly made her way to the back.

It was her own fault, really. She had her head down, attention back on the clipboard, and she rounded a corner in the kitchen at her top walking speed. She didn’t even see Eskel coming. They collided, and she shrieked when Eskel’s pail of oven cleaner sloshed all over her blouse. 

“Eskel, don’t forget we still need to-” Geralt came around the corner and froze when he saw Tissaia, covered in cleaner. “Get Regis,” he told the other cook, then pulled Tissaia by the arm back to the mop sink. 

“I know it sucks, but you need to take that off right now.” Geralt gestured to her shirt.

“W-what?” she stammered, shock on her face as she looked up at him.

“You need to rinse off under warm water for at least 60 seconds. We don’t want you getting a chemical burn. Eskel!” he turned to call. “Clear the kitchen. Keep everyone out.” 

Tissaia couldn’t get her shirt unbuttoned fast enough. The water was still quite cold, but it was better than nothing, she guessed. The loud music had stopped, and Eskel stood there, wringing his chef’s hat. 

“Shit, Tissaia, I’m so sorry…” 

“It’s okay, it was just an accident.”

“You too, Eskel.” Geralt gave him a look. “Give her some privacy.” 

Tissaia shivered, goosebumps rising all over her bare skin. 

“You, uh…” Geralt gestured at her and began unbuttoning his chef’s jacket. “You should probably take your… bra off too. I’ll turn around. And then you can put this on.” He lay his jacket down on the counter. 

She pursed her lips and her bra followed. When she was satisfied she was thoroughly rinsed, she turned off the faucet and reached for Geralt’s jacket. She froze for a moment when she heard her phone ringing, and then dashed past Geralt in a panic, pulling his coat on over her wet skin, not bothering with the buttons. She found it on the shelf where she had set it down and answered it, skirt drenched and dripping on the floor.

“Terrance, hi! Thank you for the appointment!”

“Hello, Tissaia.” Stregobor’s voice oozed through the phone. 

Her heart sank. Terrance hadn’t told her it would be a conference call. She shrank against the shelf, turning just in time to see Regis come around the corner, looking concerned. 

“Stregobor, I-”

Terrance’s voice came across the line, sounding pleasant as always. “Tissaia, I thought we could discuss the arrangement together. Is this a bad time?”

Time seemed to stop as Regis’ eyes met hers. She was soaked, disheveled, half-naked, and her heart was hammering just from hearing her ex-husband’s voice. Tissaia had never wanted to disappear so badly in all her life. Regis immediately looked away. She turned around and pulled the jacket close with one hand, holding onto it as though it could offer emotional support.

“Y-yes. This is a bad time,” she stammered, praying that any minute now she would wake up from what was clearly a terrible nightmare. “I apologize, but I will need to reschedule.” She took the dish towel Geralt offered her, and awkwardly dried herself as best she could one-handed. 

“Alright, we can work something out for next week,” Terrance said cheerfully. “I know the call was a bit later than we had planned, so I understand. Maybe Tuesday?”

She could hear Geralt whispering to Regis, explaining what had happened.

“Maybe we can sit down in person to work things out,” Stregobor suggested. Tissaia could hear the smugness in his voice.

“I have to get back to work,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll call you later, Terrance, thank you.”

She hung up the phone, feeling the sting of tears coming to her eyes, and took a deep breath before turning around. Regis had taken off his blazer, and was pulling off the grey sweater he wore underneath. It caught the hem of his dress shirt, and she caught a brief glimpse of what looked like black wings tattooed on the pale skin of his side before the shirt covered him again. 

“Put this on, my darling,” he said, holding out the sweater to Tissaia. “I’m afraid your blouse is in no state to wear.”

She nodded, eyes watering now. What was it about this man that made her cry? She almost never cried, and now this was the second time he had seen her in tears. The first time had been last month at the staff Christmas party. Tissaia had ended up snowed in at Regis’ house after everyone else had left, and she had told him a little bit about her situation with Stregobor. 

“Thank you,” she managed, taking the sweater from him. It was impossibly soft. “I think I actually have a skirt in my car… It was meant for the cleaners, but…” 

“If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll retrieve it for you.”

Tissaia nodded gratefully. “Thank you.” She pulled her keys out of her locker for him, then made her way to the staff washroom, trying not to imagine her coworkers staring as she passed them.

She hung Geralt’s jacket up on the hook behind the door and pulled Regis’ sweater over her head. It smelled like him, that warm, woodsy scent that she remembered from the night of the party. She let the memory wash over her, forgetting for just a moment about the cleaner spill incident and her ex-husband, and she remembered how nice it felt to be held close and cared for. Tissaia couldn’t help but bury her nose in the collar of the sweater for another moment, wrapping her arms around herself and enjoying the softness. She looked in the mirror. It was a little big, but the grey set off her grey eyes nicely. 

A gentle rapping at the door startled her. She opened it a crack and Regis held out her skirt. His eyes immediately went to the sweater and he swallowed audibly. 

“Is the sweater… okay? It looks… lovely. On you, that is.” 

Tissaia could swear a faint flush was creeping into his cheeks. She couldn’t remember Regis ever seeming even the tiniest bit flustered before. 

“It’s perfect, thank you.” 

They both looked at each other, the silence just starting to stretch into awkward. Finally Regis cleared his throat. “Is there anything else you require, Tissaia? I would be happy to help in any way I can.” His dark eyes were wide and so kind. 

To her dismay, Tissaia found her eyes watering. Again. She found herself unable to hide from him behind the walls she’d spent years building; her emotions were laid bare, simply from the gentle way he looked at her.

“Oh, my dear.” He reached for her, and before she knew it, Regis had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close, seeming unfazed by her skirt dripping onto his grey suit pants.

“Shhh. It will be alright.” His hands gently stroked her back. 

“It’s just… Stregobor again. He…” A fresh wave of tears hit her and she allowed herself to melt into his chest. 

And then she realized with a jolt that she wasn’t wearing a bra, only a soft, thin sweater. But the hug felt so good, and if Regis had noticed, he certainly wasn’t showing it. He did have a thick blazer on, after all. She willed herself to relax in his arms again. 

A thought occurred to Tissaia, and she pulled away, looking at Regis. One of her hands unconsciously reached up to straighten the bun in her hair, recoiling at its messy, drenched state. She took a deep breath. “I wonder if you might…”

He pulled back and looked down at her. “Whatever it may be, you need only ask.” 

“I wonder if I could talk through my... current situation with you. I need some advice and you’re my only real friend here.” She looked down, trying desperately not to admire how perfectly she fit in his arms. “I know you have some experience with legal matters, and I thought you might be able to offer some tips for… I don’t know. Just in general, I suppose.” _Tips for not letting your ex bully you, and not letting his lawyer walk all over you,_ her brain screamed at her.

Regis placed a hand on his chest and inclined his head at her. “It would be my pleasure to assist you however I can. Perhaps you’d like to join me for dinner this evening? I’ve been meaning to investigate that new place over on Andromeda Street, the Bruxa, was it? Jaskier has been raving about the food, but then again he always does, doesn’t he?” 

Tissaia wiped her eyes and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you so much, Regis. I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to… finish refreshing. And please let me know if I can do anything else.” 

He closed the door and she turned to look in the mirror again. She shook her head at her red eyes and messy bun. So far Regis had seen her at her worst. Tonight she would give him her best.


	2. Definitely Not a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tissaia is in need of a friend to talk through her Stregobor troubles with, so Regis takes her for dinner. It is Not a Date... except it definitely looks like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Tissaia talks about her marriage to Stregobor. He wasn't physically abusive, but was emotionally abusive.

When she got home from work, Tissaia tossed her keys on the kitchen counter, and went straight for the shower. She carefully draped Regis’ sweater over the armchair in her bedroom, inhaling its scent one last time before she went to scrub off and make herself smell fabulous. 

_ I’m not being weird, he just smells nice and gives great hugs,  _ she told herself as she shampooed her hair. But she couldn’t shake the thought that what she enjoyed most about the hugs was the man behind them.

She toweled off and blow-dried her hair, then went to go pick out something nice to wear. Digging through her tiny closet, Tissaia found a dress she hadn’t really looked at in years; the red dress she had bought to wear on the honeymoon they never went on. It even had the tags on still. She pulled the dress out of the closet and held it against herself in front of the mirror. It was knee-length, with a modest dip in the front, showing just enough to be a little flirty. She remembered feeling so beautiful in this dress at the store that she just couldn’t put it back on the rack, even though it wasn’t on sale at the time, and it had been a little out of her price range. Determination filled her eyes.

“It’s you and me, tonight,” she told the dress, hanging it on her bedroom doorknob. Tissaia went to her dresser. Deciding it was all or nothing, she picked out the one matching bra and panties set she had. If she was going to talk about her divorce without crying (again), she figured feeling fancy might help her feel a little more confident and strong. 

With a fair amount of struggling and awkward sound effects, she squeezed into her pantyhose, then grabbed the dress and slipped it over her head. A small shiver ran down her spine as the silky fabric enveloped her. She was used to getting dressed up for court appearances, and it was thrilling to get a little fancy for something she was actually excited about.

Going back into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup, she decided on a subtle eyeshadow and lip color before turning her attention to her hair. Her hand unconsciously grabbed a pile of hairpins, and set about forming the tight bun she always wore, then stopped. An image came to her mind of the look on Regis’ face the morning after the Christmas party. He had stood in his kitchen, jaw dropped slightly, as he looked at the messy hair tumbling loose on her shoulders... and he had called her beautiful. She set down the hairpins.

Tissaia parked at the Bruxa and climbed out of her beat up Toyota. She took a moment to smooth her hair and her dress, and she strode up the walk. But when she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection on the glass door, she suddenly worried that she might have gone too far. What if Regis thought she imagined this was a date? It was too late to do anything about it now though, so she straightened her shoulders and pushed the door open. 

Her eyes scanned the restaurant and she spotted Regis at a table towards the back. She was halfway there when he looked up and saw her. His eyes widened, and he shot to his feet, banging his knees on the table and rattling the silverware. 

Tissaia was wowed by how he looked for the occasion as well. At first glance, it looked like Regis wore a blazer and dress slacks, like he always did. This time, however, it seemed to be a fitted suit jacket, with almost imperceptible black pinstripes. Underneath it he wore a lovely black double-breasted vest made from some silky-looking fabric with black swirls on it, over a crisp white dress shirt. He had opted for a thin black tie that matched the vest, and Tissaia couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome.

A small smile crept onto her lips as she approached their table.  _ He dressed up for me, too. _ Tissaia tried to stifle the thought, meaning to keep her expectations low, but she couldn’t stop the warm bubbly feeling that filled her chest. She stopped in front of him, shyly brushing her hair over her shoulder. 

His mouth opened and closed a few times, then his face lit with a dazzling smile. “Tissaia. You look absolutely… breathtaking.” He took her hand gently and brought it to his lips. 

Tissaia felt her face flush at his reaction, and she imagined she must be close to the shade of Geralt’s tomato sauce. She had been hoping he would like how she looked, but experiencing his reaction in person seemed to be giving her heart wings. “Regis, I- thank you,” she stammered, as he pulled her chair out for her, pushing it back in after she sat down. The room was definitely hotter now than it had been a minute ago. 

Regis seated himself across from her, and fumbled for his menu. “Yes, well… the menu certainly looks promising. Quite the selection of flatbreads, although aioli as a sauce, with only olives and anchovies? I’m not so sure about that…” He kept his eyes firmly trained on the menu in front of him.

“No, I don’t think I’ll be trying that one.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought, then opened her menu. 

Tissaia barely had a chance to orient herself when their server, a young woman in a white blouse with a black tie, stopped in front of their table. She was short and cute, with a wide smile, sun-kissed skin, and lovely thick brunette hair that fell around her face in the kind of waves that Tissaia had always wished her own hair would hold.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Bruxa! My name’s Renfri, and I’ll be your server tonight,” she said cheerfully, looking first at Tissaia, then at Regis. “You guys look great! Is this a special occasion?” 

“Oh… not really...” Tissaia started, looking over the table at Regis.

“No? Just a regular date? Well, either way, you look wonderful.” Renfri smiled, looking between the two of them. 

“Uh… thanks, we…” Tissaia was now blushing furiously again, and having trouble forming any sort of response.  _ Don’t look at Regis. Don’t look at Regis. Don’t-  _ Too late. She glanced at him. 

If Regis felt as awkward as she did, he was doing a great job of hiding it.

“Perhaps, my dear, you might tell us about this evening’s specials?” he asked smoothly, moving onto a safer topic.

“Of course,” she said, with a nod and a small twinkle in her eye. She glanced at her notepad and described the specials, explained what was fresh that day, and offered suggestions about what was most popular, and what she thought they might enjoy. 

They ordered a handful of small appetizers (“We’re here to try the food, after all, aren’t we?” Regis asked playfully) and a bottle of red wine to start. Renfri brought the wine out right away with two glasses, along with a basket of bread, apologizing for the anticipated long wait for food. Apparently there was a live band that evening, and the place had been almost filled when Tissaia had arrived.

Regis waved her off with a smile. “I run a restaurant, my dear, we're no strangers to busy nights, and long waits. You’ll find no complaints here,” he told her. 

Renfri seemed to relax at his words. She leaned into their table a little. “Thanks,” she said in a quiet voice. “Two tables have already been cranky about it tonight, so that really means a lot.” After showing Regis the wine, she began to pour. “What restaurant do you run?”

“Corvo Bianco, the Italian place over on-”

Renfri gasped. “I love Corvo! The food is incredible! Oh man, I wanted to apply there but you weren’t taking applications when I was looking for a new job…”

“That’s very kind of you to say. Perhaps the next time we are hiring…?” Regis offered quietly.

Renfri gave him a wink. “Perhaps.” She placed the bottle back on the table. “I’ll get those appetizers out to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, enjoy.” 

The music was starting to pick up on the other side of the restaurant, and the room was getting quite a bit louder. Regis stood, and slid his chair over beside Tissaia’s.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, moving his place setting. “I know you wanted to talk this evening, and I’m not entirely sure I would have been able to hear you across the table.”

Tissaia nodded, not failing to notice how close they now were.

Regis offered her the bread basket, then chose a roll for himself. “Now,” he said, sitting back with a smile, “what would you like to discuss? I understand you’re having some trouble with your legal situation with your ex-husband.”

Tissaia’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed unhappily, remembering the real reason Regis had invited her: because she had imposed on him for help with Stregobor. She took a sip of wine.

“Stregobor… has gotten everything, with the divorce,” she said, looking down at her lap. “Everything of any value, that is. I haven’t fought him on anything, because I… can’t afford a decent lawyer, and I honestly just… needed to get away from him.” She looked back up at Regis, expecting to see pursed lips and a furrowed brow, perhaps judgement for running from a difficult situation, but all she saw was concern and care in his kind, dark eyes.

“Tissaia, please forgive me if I ask anything too personal. You need not answer anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, laying his hand on top of hers on the table. “If he has already gotten everything, and you are not contesting him, why is he still contacting you through a lawyer?”

“He never signed the divorce papers,” Tissaia said gloomily. “It’s been five years since I moved out, and he still refuses to sign.”

“If it is apparent that you won’t be reconciling, forgive me again, but I must ask: what reason could he possibly have for this?” Regis looked honestly shocked.

“It isn’t about reconciling for him,” she said, picking at the crust of her roll. It was easier to talk if she was doing something, she decided.

“Then what-”

Tissaia interrupted him. “It’s about control. Stregobor always has to be in control. Since I was the one to file for the divorce, he has done everything he can to prevent me from getting my way on anything.”

“If it’s been five years, how is he preventing you?” Regis asked, taking a sip of his wine. “It seems as though there should be some sort of limitation on how long these proceedings can take.”

“There is. But he and his lawyers are always quick to file a new change to the settlement whenever the date approaches.”

“A change?”

She took another sip of wine, looking away from his gaze. “It’s always something different that he claims he wants. The tissue box holder that I got from his aunt, the quilt we picked out at the fair one year… little things, just to let me know he can force his way into my life whenever he wants.” She twisted the thin stem of the wine glass in her fingers, watching the liquid swirl inside the glass as she spoke. 

“I’ve had to replace so many things, just pointless little things, because he can’t let me have anything. I don’t even own jewelry anymore, because I dropped it all off at the lawyer’s office to get rid of him.” Tissaia felt Regis’ hand tighten around hers, and she looked up at him.

“I’m so sorry he’s put you through so much,” Regis said softly. He stroked the side of her hand gently with his thumb. “What is it he’s after this time?”

Tissaia felt the burning lump rising in her throat, and she swallowed it back down.  _ No,  _ she thought firmly.  _ I will get through this without crying. Just this once. _ She took a large sip of wine, hoping against hope that it would make the conversation easier.

“He… he wants the coffee cups his mother left me.” 

“Coffee cups?” Regis looked surprised. His hand was still on hers. 

Tissaia nodded. “Stregobor’s mother, Irene, was… well, she was like a second mother to me. She and I would go to thrift stores and garage sales, and find cool things, like paintings, or homemade crocheted blankets, or terrible romance novels…” She smiled fondly at the memory. “We collected coffee cups. We never bought them unless they were the most outrageously hideous cups you’d ever seen, with some terrible pattern, or hilarious structural design.” 

Tissaia took another sip of her wine, finishing the glass. She set it down, running her hand through her hair. “Stregobor absolutely HATED them,” she said softly. “When Irene… when she passed away, she left her half of the collection to me in her will. I packed them in a box because I couldn’t look at them for a while… I had to hide them, because he said he would smash them, on more than one occasion.”

Regis looked down at his glass, brows furrowed in thought. “If he hated the cups so much, why does he want them?” he asked finally, looking at her. “Why bother you for them? And if she left them in her will, surely he can’t...”

Tissaia smiled bitterly as she looked up at him. “He doesn’t want them. He knows they’re important to me, and he wants to take them away from me, because they make me happy. And he’s contested the will, arguing she was not of sound mind.” She couldn’t stop the tears from rising to her eyes. “They’re all I have left from her, and he’s not going to leave me alone until he takes them, just like he’s taken everything else. Even then, I'll be lucky if I have a month before he finds something else to demand.” She pulled her hand away from his, and blotted at her eyes with her napkin, praying her mascara hadn’t smudged.

“I told myself I wasn’t going to cry tonight,” she said, looking at him, “and here I am, doing just that.”

Regis looked like he was at a loss for words. Tissaia couldn’t place the feeling she saw on his face, but she was afraid it might be the look of someone who had finally seen too much of her crying. Maybe he wished he hadn’t invited her, after all. She had to get away for a minute, it was too much. 

“Do you know where the restrooms are?” she asked, getting up from her seat. Regis rose as well, scanning the restaurant.

“Never mind, I see Renfri, I’ll go ask her,” she said, turning back for a minute. “I’ll be right back.”

Tissaia expected Renfri to point her in the direction of the bathroom, but was surprised when the server went in with her. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, offering Tissaia the box of tissues by one of the sinks. “If he hurt you, or he’s being too pushy or something, I can call someone to come get you and distract him if you need me to.”

Tissaia looked at Renfri, startled. “What- no, it’s not like that, we were talking about my ex-husband. Regis- the man I’m here with, he’d never hurt me,” she laughed anxiously. “I think I might have scared him away though.”

Renfri peeked out the bathroom door. “Nah, he’s still there,” she confirmed. “He’s on the phone now, though." She looked back at Tissaia. "After all the work you put into dolling yourself up for this guy? Babe, if a date ever walks out on you while you're in the bathroom, number one, he's an idiot, and number two, it's his loss. You deserve the world. Don't ever let some asshole make you doubt that." Renfri smiled at her warmly. "I gotta get back to my tables, but I'll stop by in a few minutes to check on you. Now, put your game face on, and go get some to spite your ex!"

"I- he's…" she started, as the bathroom door closed behind Renfri, "...my boss."

Tissaia turned to look in the mirror and took a deep breath.  _ You can do this. _

When she approached their table, Regis saw her and jumped to his feet again. 

He tucked her chair in and then settled himself. He looked at his plate for a moment and then up at Tissaia. His black eyes seemed almost endlessly deep in the relaxed light of the restaurant, and they held a soft allure that she couldn’t help but fall into. 

“Are you alright, my darling?” 

_ Darling. _

To Tissaia’s knowledge, Regis called most people “dear,” when addressing them. “Darling” seemed more... personal, somehow. Thinking about it, she could only ever recall the word leaving his lips when referencing her. She shook her head. Clearly she was reading too much into it.

“I will be. Thank you for listening. I’m sorry for falling apart… again.” 

Regis shook his head emphatically and placed his hand on Tissaia’s. 

“Don’t apologize. This man has been harassing you.” There was a steel undertone to his voice she hadn’t heard before. “I’ve just been speaking with my lawyer, Vesemir, and he agreed that Stregobor has crossed every possible line. He can no longer be allowed to treat you this way. Vesemir has agreed to take on your case-”

Tissaia had been watching where Regis’ hand was touching hers, but then her head snapped up.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Tissaia, I must insist. Anyway, he wants to help.”

“But I can’t afford…”

Regis squeezed her hand. “Vesemir is an old, old friend of mine. There will be no cost. He has asked for you to contact him first thing tomorrow morning.” 

Tissaia felt her throat squeezing again.  _ Gods damn it.  _

Fortunately, she was rescued by Renfri breezing up with a tray of appetizers. “Here we are,” she grinned at them. “I may have rushed the kitchen on these. More wine?” She picked up the bottle and filled their glasses again. 

“Girl, you’ve got to tell me where you got that dress. It looks amazing on you. Doesn’t she look amazing?” Renfri asked Regis with a sparkle in her eye. 

He glanced at Tissaia, and nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “Beautiful,” he agreed softly. 

Renfri gave Tissaia a subtle wink. “Have you had a chance to look at entrees yet?” 

Tissaia stared hard at the menu while she felt her cheeks flush with the sweet pleasure of the man she  _ definitely did not have a crush on _ saying she looked beautiful. “Yes, I think I'll have the grilled salmon with lemon-butter pan sauce and shallots, please, and the seasonal vegetables for the side.”

“Excellent choice. And for you, sir?” 

“The six ounce prime rib, please. Rare. For the side, I think I’ll try the blackened garlic asparagus.”

Renfri smiled and collected their menus. “I’ll get those in for you right away. Enjoy your starters.” 

The conversation flowed easily after that, but they both steered far away from anything to do with Stregobor. They talked about their favourite music and movies, and Tissaia couldn’t remember the last time someone had seemed genuinely interested in who she was as a person. 

Their entrees arrived before she knew it, and the topic shifted to how each item tasted, the different flavour combinations, and what they thought could be improved upon. Tissaia really enjoyed the blackened asparagus, and was definitely glad Regis had moved to sit next to her, making it easier for her to steal a few bites from his plate.

Much later, once the plates had been cleared away, Regis perused the dessert menu. Tissaia watched a furrow appear in his brow. 

“Er… is something the matter?” 

“Indeed it is. They don’t have tiramisu!” 

“Oh!” Tissaia laughed at his mock outrage.

“I’ve made a point of ordering it everywhere I go, but sadly…” 

“Well, there’s a coffee shop by the park near my apartment that has  _ fantastic  _ tiramisu,” she said enticingly.

Regis gave her a sly smile. “It sounds to me as though we might enjoy some coffee after our meal,” he said, signalling for Renfri to bring their bill. 

When she dropped it off with a friendly smile for them, Regis slipped her his business card. “If you decide you’re looking for other opportunities…” he said in a low voice. She gave him a conspiratorial nod and tucked it into her pocket. 

Regis insisted on paying, citing the fact that it was for work and he had ordered almost the entire appetizer menu. Tissaia relented, planning to treat Regis to the tiramisu. He followed her back to her apartment building, where she parked her car, and they rode together to the coffee shop. Regis had a comfortable silver Volvo, and Tissaia found herself incredibly jealous of the seat warmers. She looked forward to the day she never saw her beat up Toyota again. 

When they pulled into a parking space, Tissaia fumbled with her purse that she had dropped to the floor by her feet, and was startled when Regis opened her door.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her a hand. 


	3. Memories and Tiramisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the coffee shop after dinner, Tissaia learns a lot more about Regis over drinks and tiramisu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Discussion of death from medical condition

Tissaia took Regis’ hand, blushing, and pulled herself out of the car. It was a short walk to the coffee shop. Despite the cold, Tissaia felt a warmth she couldn’t explain. She imagined she’d have to walk quickly to keep up with Regis, since he was so much taller than her, but he matched his pace to hers. She was acutely aware of the brief moment her hand brushed his as they approached the shop. 

Inside, the coffee shop had the perfect atmosphere. There were a few acoustic artists lined up for the evening, but the music was quiet enough to allow for conversation. Faerie lights were strung on the walls, along with pictures of local musicians and bands that had performed at the shop over the years, small business recommendations, and paintings for sale by local artists.

Tissaia looked up at Regis. “What would you like to drink? I’m buying this time.”

He looked surprised, and opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. “I insist. You paid for dinner, let this be my treat.”

“Oh, all right,” he relented sheepishly. “I know that we had talked about coffee, but I think I would actually like an earl grey tea, with an extra sachet. I like it brewed a bit stronger.” 

Tissaia nodded, and looked around. “Maybe you can find us somewhere to sit? I’ll come and find you with the drinks,” she offered.

“Shall I take your coat?”

“I- yes, please, thank you.” Regis eased her coat from her shoulders, then disappeared into the next room to find a seat.

A few moments later, Tissaia found him sitting on a small loveseat in the makeshift open mic room. He stood when he saw her balancing two drinks and a small plate with a slice of tiramisu and two forks, and took his tea. 

“I hope this isn’t too… cozy. It was the only seat available for two,” he said apologetically, “at the moment, anyway. We could move once something else opens up, if you’d like.”

Tissaia smiled up at him. “It’s perfect,” she said, sitting down. Regis seated himself beside her, seeming to relax a little bit. She set down the small dessert plate on the coffee table in front of them, and smoothed her dress over her legs. “They only had one piece left, so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

They finished the tiramisu, which had surpassed Regis' expectations by a long shot. Tissaia had a feeling he would be back for more, and privately smiled at the thought of him visiting so close to her home. 

They settled into the loveseat in a comfortable silence, watching the next musician get set up. Now that Tissaia's latte was gone, she felt a slight chill in the air. She eyed her coat, which was hanging on the arm of the loveseat beside Regis.

"Are you cold?" he asked, turning to face her. She could almost feel him looking at the goosebumps on her arms. 

"Only a little. I think my coat will be too warm, though. I'll be all right," she said awkwardly, turning her attention back to the young man setting up instruments.

"Here, put this on," Regis said, handing her his suit jacket. "You'll be more comfortable. Conveniently, I had just begun to feel too hot."

The jacket was obviously too big for her, but it was soft, and still warm. _And it smelled amazing._ Tissaia couldn't help but smile as she put it on.

"You are a perfect gentleman," she said, looking at him. "You know that, right?"

Regis laughed, and ran a hand through his hair. "No one is perfect, but I do try my best. Thank you for saying so." 

And he looked the part. Regis wore black garters on the sleeves of his white dress shirt, just above his elbows. His shirt cuffs were neatly pinned with silver cuff links that looked like birds, she noticed, as he stretched his arm over her to drape it on the back of the loveseat.

Tissaia felt a sudden urge to put her feelings into words, to tell Regis he was the kindest, sweetest man she’d ever met, and she felt a happiness around him she hadn’t felt in years. Instead, she pulled his jacket a little tighter and smiled. “Aside from that, I feel like with all that’s gone on, you know a lot more about me than I know about you.”

He smiled at her, his eyes seeming to twinkle with the reflection of the faerie lights. “What would you like to know about me?”

Tissaia toyed with the cuff of his jacket. She didn’t do well being put on the spot. “Where did you grow up?”

“My family was originally from Gharasham,” Regis said, “I attended the Oxenfurt academy for culinary arts and business management after my graduation... and then I moved here, and met a lovely young man named Dettlaff, who convinced me to stay and work towards opening my own restaurant in town.”

He looked down at his lap, smiling fondly. “We were the same age, he and I. Dettlaff didn’t have fantastic dreams of wealth or fame. What he did have was a tremendous love for people, and an endless compassion that I cannot begin to fathom. I think that may have been why I fell in love with him.” He sounded almost… shy. 

“How did you meet?” Tissaia asked. It was sweet, hearing about younger Regis in love. He clearly cared a lot about Dettlaff, if his body language was any indication. His fond smile, and the way he was twirling the hood-tie on her coat with his fingers.... It was a caring, gentle shyness, and Tissaia found it adorable.

“We met at the grocery store, of all places. I had asked him about his tattoos, since I was looking to get one at the time. As it happened, he was the artist that had done them. His work was incredible.”

“So you started dating, right?” Tissaia was invested. She loved a good romance.

Regis blushed. His fingers traced the pattern on the arm of the love seat. “I… that is to say, we… it took some time, for me to work up the courage to ask Dettlaff on a date. I had gone to him for my first tattoo, then again for the second, and the third. We talked while he worked, you see. When I went to get a sixth, he had asked me before I could ask him. My seventh and last was done the week he asked me to marry him.”

Tissaia was lost in his story, and the rest of the coffee shop had fallen away. “Regis, that’s… I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything sweeter,” she said, beaming at him.

He smiled forlornly back at her. “Sadly, it was not all roses in our garden. Dettlaff had a very aggressive type of brain cancer, and we were lucky to have the years together that we did. We decided not to have a wedding, because he wasn’t feeling up to a large event, and he preferred not to let me be pitied on such an occasion.”

He fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. Tissaia’s heart ached.

“After he died, I grew more attached to my work, and that was when I started succeeding with the restaurants. It’s strange, isn’t it, how when something we love is taken from us, something else in our lives seems to flourish, but cannot be fully enjoyed... It wasn’t until I opened Corvo Bianco that I truly began to live again. Vesemir was a tremendous help, in that regard. He introduced me to his son, Geralt, and we built the restaurant from the ground up, as it were. 

“It took some time, but I was able to connect with people again. I want to pass on the kindness that Dettlaff brought into my life. Every day is a new opportunity, and it would be a disgrace to his memory for me to give up on the world in his absence. I’ve slowly learned to enjoy things again, and while it was difficult at first, to be around other people, I can say that I truly love our little Corvo family.”

Regis smiled, looking over at Tissaia. “If there is one thing that Dettlaff taught me, it’s to appreciate what you have, when it’s right in front of you.” His eyes were heavy on hers and she was sure she was not imagining the sparks crackling between them. 

She was about to lift her hand to take Regis’ when suddenly an employee bustled over with a tub in her hands. “Hey guys, sorry to interrupt, can I just grab your dishes?” 

They nodded at her and shuffled their legs out of the way so the girl could grab their empty cups and plate. When she had moved on, Regis looked at Tissaia. “It’s awfully late. I should probably get you home.” 

They chatted about work on the way back to Tissaia’s apartment, and Regis filled her in on how the renovations were going on the new restaurant he had purchased. 

He pulled up in the visitor’s parking lot at Tissaia’s building. When he shut off the engine and made to get out, she stopped him. “Oh, it’s okay, you don’t need to walk me up.” 

“I most certainly do,” he told her sternly, but with a slight quirk to his lips. “It would seem I have a reputation to uphold. I believe your words were ‘perfect gentleman’, if memory serves?”

This time Tissaia waited for Regis to open her door, finding herself quickly becoming used to his gallant gestures. 

When they reached the door to the building they turned to face each other. Tissaia’s heart was racing. The rational ‘he’s your boss’ side of her brain had apparently packed it in for the night. 

“Thank you for joining me this evening,” Regis began. 

“No, thank you. Thank you for listening and contacting Vesemir for me, and for… being there. I’m… I’m really just so grateful.” And before she could overthink it, she stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist and tucked her head under his chin. His arms wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, feeling safe and comfortable and so, so warm. 

He held her tightly for a long moment. “Good night, Tissaia.” 

“Good night, Regis.” 

He watched her until she was safely inside the building, with a final wave as the elevator doors closed. 

Tissaia locked her apartment door behind her and hung up her coat and bag, then went straight to her bedroom, suddenly realizing how tired she was. She slipped out of the red dress, hanging it back on the bedroom door. She smiled, and ran a hand down the silky fabric. “I think we did all right for ourselves,” she told the dress. “He said I was beautiful…” Her heart felt warm, as she thought of Regis holding her hand, and the look on his face when he had seen her approaching him at the restaurant. 

Sighing happily to herself, Tissaia pulled some pajamas out of her dresser, but then Regis’ sweater draped over the back of her armchair caught her eye. Before she could think about it too hard, she slipped it back on over her head. It still smelled a bit like him. 

“He’ll never know,” she whispered.

She bundled into bed, and her brain began to flip through images from the night. Regis’ face when he first saw her. Regis touching her hand. Regis calling her beautiful. Regis…. His name built the foundation in her mind for pleasant thoughts instead of stress and worry, and Tissaia was struck with the realization: she definitely had a crush on her boss, and it was rapidly growing to be a pretty huge one. 

But she was too tired to feel guilty about having such thoughts; that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, she went back to her favourite Regis memory, curled up next to him under a blanket by a crackling fire after the Christmas party. For a brief moment as she was falling asleep, Tissaia imagined that the soft warmth of the sweater was Regis holding her close. She drifted off to the most peaceful sleep she had known in a while.


	4. Fiance???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stregobor appears, attempting to intimidate Tissaia, and in a bid to protect her, Regis makes a rather significant declaration.

When Tissaia got to work the next morning she found Vesemir’s business card on her desk and a note from Regis in his elegant script: _ Tissaia, Please contact Vesemir at your earliest convenience. Thank you for the tiramisu last night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a wonderful day. Regis  _

She smiled.  _ I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either, Regis.  _

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and called the number. The assistant put her through directly, and before she knew it, a rich baritone voice poured through the phone. “Ms. de Vries, thank you for contacting me.” 

“No, thank  _ you! _ I’m so grateful for any help you can give me, I just don’t know what to do anymore…”

“Well, I know exactly what to do. If you give me your address, I can have an assistant stop by to pick up any documents you have pertaining to your divorce proceedings. Once my team has had a chance to review it, perhaps we could meet face to face?” 

“Of course, that would be… thank you.” 

In a matter of minutes, she felt like Vesemir had taken another load off of her shoulders, and it was a little easier to breathe again. She tucked the business card and Regis’ note into her purse, let her shoulders relax, and got back to work. 

Two days later, Tissaia was back at her desk pouring over a spreadsheet when there was a gentle rap on the door frame. 

Regis was there, looking as immaculate as ever in a grey dress shirt with a soft-looking indigo sweater and matching tie.  _ Looking ready to dispense more of his lovely, soft hugs- _ she brought that thought to a screeching halt.  _ Boss. Boss. BOSS, _ she reminded herself.

“I apologize for the interruption, but… I was thinking about having dinner at Valley of Plenty tonight, that pub down by the farmer’s market? And I thought- that is to say, I wondered if you might join me again? It’s helpful to have another person’s perspective on the food, and we can try more things this way…” 

Tissaia smiled, nodding shyly. She felt a warm glow flickering in her chest. “That would be wonderful, thank you. What time should I meet you there?”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat. “I thought perhaps I might pick you up this time? Possibly 7:00?” 

Her smile widened. “Of course! I’ll be ready by 7:00.”

The rest of the day flew by. Tissaia’s footsteps had never felt so light. Nothing could ruin her mood, not even breaking up an argument between Lambert and Eskel over Lambert leaving early to watch the game. Regis had asked her to dinner, and not to talk about her ex this time, but because he enjoyed her company. The thought thrilled her. 

An eye on the clock, she finally wrapped things up and headed to her car, giving herself plenty of time to get ready. She was pulling out her keys, wondering what she should wear this time, when a familiar shiny black Mercedes rolled to a stop in front of her in the parking lot. 

Her stomach dropped as the back window began to glide open. This could not be happening. 

And there he was. “Tissaia,” he oozed, lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. 

She felt the ground open up under her. What the  _ fuck  _ was he doing here? He had no way of knowing where she worked. She struggled to keep her face impassive. 

“Stregobor. What are you doing here?” She kept her voice steady but her insides were roiling. 

“Well, it was taking so long to get this done through lawyers, wasn’t it? I thought if I just came to see you, face-to-face, we could put this nastiness behind us.” 

“Are you f-” she bit off. She took a deep breath. “You can’t be here.” 

“And yet, I am.” His voice was smooth and coiled, like the snake he was.

Tissaia shook her head and clutched her purse tightly to her side, at a loss for words. 

“Excuse me, can I help you?” came a voice; it was calm, yet firm as iron. 

Tissaia whirled. 

_ Regis.  _

He was striding across the parking lot, brow furrowed, eyes locked onto Stregobor. He came to a stop beside Tissaia and slid his arm around her. Relief flooded her limbs. 

“And who might you be?” Stregobor sneered, but his eyes flickered in surprise. 

“Regis Terzieff-Godefroy. And you are?” 

“Stregobor Kovirian.” 

Regis’ arm tightened around Tissaia. “You have absolutely no right to be here. This is harassment, pure and simple. You are to cease any and all contact with Tissaia, beginning immediately. All communication will be done through appropriate legal representatives, and if I so much as smell you anywhere near her in the future, you can be sure I will come after you to the fullest extent of the law.”

His eyes were ablaze, and his voice, while keeping its even tone, conveyed an anger that wasn’t to be meddled with. 

Tissaia felt a huge jolt of satisfaction, watching, for the first time in her life, as Stregobor was the uncomfortable party in one of their meetings.

He recovered quickly though, and his lip curled up. “Are you her new lawyer, then?” 

Regis drew himself up to his full height, towering over Tissaia by a good eight inches. His hand held her waist just a bit tighter, as he replied, “No, I am her fiance.” 

Tissaia nearly choked on her next breath.  _ Her what now?  _ But she managed to arch an eyebrow and keep her gaze levelled at Stregobor. 

This time Stregobor didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. “Fiance? My, my. We’ve been…  _ busy _ , Tissaia, haven’t we?” He smirked at Regis. “I may be a simple businessman, but as I understand the law, someone can only have one husband at a time…” Stregobor looked at Tissaia, and she could feel the jeering insult in his eyes, “...no matter how...  _ soliciting _ she may be.”

Tissaia felt Regis’ body tense. He let the silence stretch out. 

“You’ll be hearing from our lawyer. Leave now,” Tissaia said cooly, drawing strength from Regis’ grip. 

“Indeed. Tissaia, a pleasure as always. Regis.” Any sign of amusement had left his face. Tissaia recognized the look of cold rage. The window slid up, and the car pulled away. 

They waited until the car was out of sight, and they both let out a noisy breath. Regis’ arm fell from her back. 

She turned to look at Regis and his eyes were closed. 

“Um…” 

Regis began shaking his head. “I… Tissaia, I… I am so sorry,” he stammered. “I don’t know what came over me- what possessed me to imply something like… something as  _ significant _ as what I just said, and without your consent...” 

Her heart was jumping in her chest. “It’s okay. You only said it to help me. To be honest, I’m glad you happened to come outside when you did.” 

He continued to shake his head. “That’s no excuse.” 

“How did he even know I worked here?” she wondered out loud. 

Regis’ eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell him you worked here?” 

“No, I haven’t told a soul from Aretuza.”

Regis’ jaw clenched. 

Tissaia sighed despondently. “Stregobor will probably do everything in his power to make your life miserable now too.”

Regis looked down at her, a glint in his dark eyes. “He can try.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tissaia had been reluctant to head back to her apartment alone, knowing that Stregobor could be lurking nearby. Regis must have felt the same, because he suggested they head straight to dinner from there. 

“What about my car?” she wondered, eyeing her sad little pile of scrap metal. 

“I can pick you up and drive you to work in the morning, if you’d like.” 

Tissaia smiled inwardly, imagining how it would look to the staff if she and Regis arrived together in the morning, her car sitting abandoned overnight.

“That sounds great,” she smiled at him, and took his proffered arm. Regis escorted her to his car, and ensured she was settled before carefully closing the door. 

Valley of Plenty was a lively, casual pub that had been designed to look like an old-fashioned tavern. With large timber beams placed throughout, and rustic wooden benches in place of chairs, it had all the ambiance of a place one might find at a renaissance festival, or the middle ages.

They chose their own seats, managing to find a small table in a corner near the bar. Regis once again ordered a wide selection of starters, but this time he opted for a pint of their house-made ale. Tissaia didn’t normally drink beer, but after their encounter with Stregobor, it seemed like as good a time as any to give it a go. 

They chatted about upcoming plans for Valentine's Day at Corvo until the food arrived, and then began the usual culinary analysis. It wasn’t until they had ordered entrees and the appetizers were cleared that the weight of their fake engagement began to sit heavily on Tissaia. 

“I wonder what Stregobor will do next,” she finally mused, wrapping her fingers around her glass. 

Regis looked at her contritely. “I truly am sorry, it was not my intention to make your situation with him worse.”

Tissaia smiled sadly. “It’s all right. It made me feel… I don’t know, safer, I suppose. He doesn’t respect me, but as terrible as it sounds, I think he may vaguely respect the idea of me belonging to someone else, simply because you’re a man.” She looked down at her hands. The situation made her feel ashamed, and she wasn’t sure why.

“The only trouble it will cause me is the ridicule, when he inevitably finds out that it’s not true. He’s always said that no one would want me after him, and that’s… never pleasant to hear.” She tried desperately to silence the Stregobor-sounding voice in her head that echoed his words, telling her that Regis would never want her.

“What if…” Regis’ fingers barely touched hers on the table, a feather-light caress. 

Tissaia looked back up at him. “What if what?”

His eyes met hers. There was some expression in them that she couldn’t quite place. “What if… he didn’t find out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tissaia, there’s… no need for you to tell him.”

“Regis, he’s  _ going _ to find out, whether I tell him or not. We  _ aren’t _ engaged. He has clearly been tracking me, and it will become obvious pretty quickly that we lied.”

His hand inched just a bit further onto hers. He looked as though he were debating inwardly on what he wanted to say, his bottom lip caught in his teeth.

"We could simply act as though we  _ were _ _,"_ he said slowly, looking down at her hand. "For the benefit of anyone who may be watching. That is to say, if it made things easier for you, and you would not be uncomfortable."

Tissaia’s heart caught in her throat. “I… we… Regis, I- I could never ask something like that of you,” she stammered.

Regis gave her a small smile. “My darling, you needn’t ask it of me. I’ve already volunteered, by getting you into this mess. If I can help you feel at all safer from him, I will.”

“I… don’t know what to say,” she said. “What are we going to tell the staff?”

“That we’ve fallen madly in love, and have decided to pursue the joys of matrimonial bliss.” They looked at each other for a minute, then both burst out laughing.

“If you’re so sure about this, then you’ll have to ask me properly,” Tissaia joked. 

Regis smiled slyly. “Perhaps I will,” he said softly, curling his hand around hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They pulled up at Tissaia’s apartment and Regis turned to look at her. 

“I think I’d better walk you right to your apartment door this time… just to be safe.”

Tissaia nodded in agreement. The idea of Stregobor following her, or even knowing where she lived, made her sick to her stomach. She’d fought so hard to get away from him and start a new life, and all for nothing, it seemed. 

She took the arm that Regis offered her, and they walked in silence up to the front door. Regis looked around cautiously as she fumbled for her keys. They made it safely inside to Tissaia’s door. When it was unlocked and opened a crack, he took one of her hands, smiling down at her with an odd, almost wistful look on his face.

“It appears this is goodnight, Ms. de Vries,” he said softly, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips. 

Tissaia blushed. “Perhaps…” she started, smiling up at him shyly, “perhaps you’d like to come in for a cup of coffee or tea in an atrocious mug? I know it isn’t the coffee shop, and I don’t have tiramisu, but-”

“I’d love to.”

She opened the door, and Regis followed her into the apartment. Tissaia closed the door firmly, locking it behind them. “It isn’t much,” she said, watching his eyes take in the tiny living space around him, “but it’s home, and it’s all mine.”

“It’s lovely,” he said, turning back to her with a smile. 

They took off their shoes and coats, and Tissaia ducked into the tiny kitchen to get a pot of coffee brewing. She jumped when she heard Regis’ voice from behind her.

“Might I perhaps see these cherished coffee cups you’ve told me about?” he asked, his lips curling into a smile. “I have a deep desire to see just how dreadful they are with my own eyes.”

After they had each selected a cup (Regis chose one shaped like a deformed soup can, while Tissaia’s was a terrible mustard yellow and brown plaid, reminiscent of a 70’s sofa), they retreated to what could loosely be described as her living room. 

The only furniture was a small sofa, a tiny side table, and the small TV stand that also held her DVD player. Tissaia began to feel slightly anxious about what Regis might think of her home. After everything that had happened with the divorce, she didn’t have too much in the way of possessions, and she worked so much that she was really only home to sleep. She saw no point in furnishing the apartment just for herself.

She realized he was waiting for her to sit first, so she hastily plopped down on the sofa, then got back up. “Would you mind if I changed into something more comfortable?” she asked, “It’s just that I’ve been in my work clothes all day, and I-”

Regis cut her off. “Tissaia, this is your home, and you deserve to be comfortable in it. I don’t mind at all.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

She went into her bedroom and pulled a velvety pair of black yoga pants from the dresser, pairing them with a soft, blue sweater, and fuzzy socks. She glanced in the mirror, wide grey eyes staring back.  _ You’ve got this, Tissaia. Regis is in your apartment. He is lovely and sweet but he is your boss. Just… don’t do anything dumb. _ Then she reached up and pulled her hairpins free, shaking out her hair.  _ What? _ she asked her reflection.  _ It’s just more comfortable this way. _

Turning to leave, she hesitated, then grabbed the extra blanket from the end of bed.  _ It’s just because it’s cold!  _ she informed her reflection firmly. 

When Tissaia got back to the living room, she found Regis kneeling by the TV stand, looking through her small DVD collection. “It’s still early, perhaps we might watch something? Oh!” He finally turned and saw her holding the blanket, and his eyes drifted to her hair. Then he looked back at the blanket and his lip curled upwards. “Did you fancy a blanket fort?”

Tissaia laughed, dropping the blanket on the sofa. “No, it just gets cold in here after a while. The window behind the couch has a draft,” she explained.

“Does your landlord not have plans to fix it? That seems as though it would make life difficult, in such cold weather.” He stood, and looked from the window to her.

She laughed nervously. “I… I filed a complaint about it, a few times, actually. But I can’t exactly force him to do anything, and I’m at work most of the time, anyway. I usually just settle for bundling up in a blanket.”

Regis pursed his lips, but said nothing. Tissaia worried he might say something about letting people walk all over her, so she changed the subject. “What did you have in mind to watch?” she asked, looking at the DVDs in his hand.

He looked down. “I am torn between these two. They’re both favorites of mine. What do you think?”

Tissaia looked up at him slyly. “It’s early,” she said enticingly. “We could always watch both.”

Regis’ eyes widened in surprise, and he smiled. “Both?”

She nodded. “Geralt is opening tomorrow, and we have to do the shopping anyway before going into the restaurant.”

“I doubt either of us will be awake long enough to finish both.”

“I’m up for it if you are. But I understand if you want to go home after the first one.”

He eyed her playfully. “Is that a challenge, Ms. de Vries?”

“Perhaps it is, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy.”

Regis laughed. “Very well, I accept,” he said, handing her the movies. 

They settled in on the couch to watch the first choice film, ‘The Man in the Iron Mask’. Tissaia was glad she had grabbed the blanket, because she was definitely getting cold. About a half hour in, Regis took the remote, and paused the movie. 

“I think it may be time for that coffee now,” he said, getting up and stretching. “And perhaps a bathroom break.”

Tissaia agreed, and poured the coffee for them, while Regis headed for the bathroom. When he emerged, she saw that he had removed his dress shirt and tie that had been underneath his sweater. She smiled privately at the idea that he was getting comfortable for a long night in with her. When she came back from her turn in the bathroom, Regis had added cream for her.

She clinked her mug with his.

“What are we toasting?” he asked, looking at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Spending a nice evening together, I suppose,” she replied with a smile. Tissaia realized that she had been smiling more these last few days with Regis than she had in the last few years. 

They finished their drinks before returning to the sofa, since there was no place to set the cups. She inwardly cursed herself for never getting a coffee table, as they sat back down.

“You are correct,” Regis said softly, looking over at Tissaia. “It  _ is _ getting rather cold. Might I persuade you to share your blanket, my darling?”

“Of course!” She held the end of the blanket open, and he moved in closer, pulling it around himself. Tissaia was very aware of the way their legs touched.

“Would you mind terribly, if I…?” He half-raised his arm.  _ He wanted to put his arm around her, just like after the Christmas party. _

Her heart fluttered. “Please do.” 

She felt him lightly brush her hair over her shoulder, then the comforting weight of his arm lay around her, pulling her slightly into him, and he rested his chin on her head. Tissaia squeezed her arm behind Regis’ back, letting her hand rest on his waist. They watched the rest of the movie that way, huddled together under the blanket. His fingers ran up and down her arm gently, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Tissaia found herself forgetting the stressful events of the day. Being close to Regis made the threat of Stregobor seem so far away, and she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. 

The movie ended, and she was brought back to reality when he squeezed her arm.  _ He’s going to say he wants to leave _ , she thought sadly, not wanting to leave the halo of warmth that his arm offered her.

“I … should probably stand for a moment,” he said into her hair. “I’ll need to stretch a bit if we are to watch the second film.”

_ Second film, _ she thought happily as she extracted herself from under his arm and stood up to stretch. She stifled a yawn, and hoped he didn’t notice. Regis seemed a bit preoccupied with changing out the DVDs, so Tissaia took the opportunity to grab her pillow and put it on the arm of the couch to cushion her elbow. The opening credits started, and Regis came back to the sofa. 

Tissaia had no idea how she summoned the courage to be so bold, but she went for it. “I thought maybe we could lie down, rest our feet…” She gestured to the pillow. Regis’ eyes slowly travelled from the pillow on the sofa back up to Tissaia’s face. 

“Would that not be… inappropriate?” he asked softly. “I would never want to take advantage.”

“Definitely not inappropriate. After all, we’re engaged, remember?” she teased, cocking her head at him.

Regis smiled. It was the deep, rich smile that she adored. The one that created the deep line in his cheek, letting her know it was a real smile. He picked up the blanket, pulling it over himself as he stretched out along the back of the sofa. He held the edge of the blanket open, and Tissaia squeezed in under his arm, nestling her body against his. Instantly, she felt warm and safe, as his arm came down around her waist. His hand slid between her midsection and the sofa, holding her against him.

“Are you comfortable?” His whispered question came so close to her ear.

“Mmmm, yes. What about you? This isn’t too....” she trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

“I am… quite comfortable, actually. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to put my legs up, so thank you for that,” Regis said quietly. Tissaia thought she felt his hand pull her in just a little closer.

‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ had never been so uninteresting. Tissaia scarcely noticed anything apart from the way Regis held her, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, the way his breathing felt against her hair… She was more comfortable than ever. She found herself falling asleep, and tried so hard to fight it. She wanted to lay there and enjoy this, not wake up alone.

“Whatever became of our challenge, Ms. de Vries?” Regis asked in a gentle, teasing tone. 

Tissaia could barely keep her eyes open, and the soft rumble of his chest wasn’t helping. She felt herself quickly slipping into unconsciousness. “I like it when you call me darling,” she murmured faintly, as sleep claimed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning Tissaia woke before her alarm. Still barely conscious, she glanced around the room, wondering why she was on the hard couch and not cozy in her bed… except she really was feeling quite pleasantly comfortable. She was wrapped in the blanket, and a pair of solid arms held her close to the warm body they were attached to. Her eyes flew open, as the realization dawned on her. 

_ Regis had stayed. _

Ever so slowly, she craned her neck to look at him. “Regis?” she whispered.

“Hmmmm?” came his reply into her hair.

“Are you awake?” 

“Only just,” he said. “It seems we both failed at staying awake through the second film. I apologize, I… didn’t mean to be forward… or inappropriate, by presuming to stay with you. I simply… you had already fallen asleep, and you looked so peaceful, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Then I… I fell asleep as well. I am terribly sorry.” He sounded embarrassed.

Tissaia smiled awkwardly. “Regis, you don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry, I pressured you into laying down with me.”

“I would not have agreed if I felt pressured. Perhaps we can both agree to not be sorry?” he suggested. “That is, if you are not uncomfortable by my having stayed?”

“Of course not! This is… nice. I haven’t fallen asleep with anyone in such a long time,” she admitted. “I just hope both our backs will be alright after spending the night on this couch.”

Regis stretched his arm out in front of them, and Tissaia heard the faint sound of his rings tinkling together, before he brought his arm back down to lay on the couch. Her hand found his, and she traced the metal bands that always lay on his middle and ring fingers. 

“They’re mine and Dettlaff’s,” he said softly, answering the question before she asked. “He had bought them when we were planning to be married. Dettlaff gave me his ring shortly before he passed away, and I’ve worn both ever since.”

She took his hand to get a closer look. The rings were identical; plain, silver bands without any markings or gems. It was the story that made them beautiful, and Tissaia’s heart ached for Regis.

She squeezed his hand. “Well. Can I interest you in some eggs and toast?” 

“That would be wonderful. Might I… freshen up first?” 

“Of course. There are extra towels in the hall closet.”

Tissaia whipped up a quick breakfast, then Regis appeared, still managing to look handsome and put-together despite the wet hair and slightly rumpled clothes. 

She ate quickly, then went to change her clothes and wrestle her hair back into its usual tidy bun. She was unable to keep from smirking when she thought about Regis showing up to work in the same clothes he was wearing yesterday. Oh, the rumours that would start if anyone saw them arriving together. 

So when they pulled up at the same time as Eskel and Lambert, she wasn’t surprised at the expressions on their faces. Their eyebrows shot up at the same time, then Tissaia saw Eskel shoot Lambert a warning “shut the fuck up” glare before he could say anything. 

Lambert clamped his mouth shut, but Tissaia couldn't resist sneaking him another look on the way in, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned. 


	5. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite constantly reminding herself it’s all fake, Tissaia finds herself swept up in the romance of their “engagement." Things come crashing back to earth, however, when Stregobor crosses a line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Emotional abuse, descriptive self-blame, mention of assault (not descriptive)

That Wednesday was Valentine’s Day, and the restaurant was booked solid. Geralt and Lambert had worked tirelessly to create a special, romantic menu, and Eskel had spent all morning making heart-shaped desserts. Jaskier and Geralt had brought in a trellis, and Jaskier was decorating it with faerie lights and real roses, for couples to take romantic photos. 

When the dinner service started, the rush quickly turned mad. Regis had to run to the other restaurant to sort out a problem with the reservation system, then Annika called in sick with the flu, so Tissaia and Triss had to split the role of hostess. Jaskier and Essi ran around in a frenzy amongst the organized chaos of all the tables that had been sat. A quick peek into the kitchen told Tissaia that Geralt was the perfect head chef for the current situation. He was growling orders, and cussing up a storm, but he had the kitchen under control, coordinating the frantic movements of the staff until they developed the rhythm of a well-choreographed dance. Regis got back just in time for the dessert courses to go out, and Eskel’s hard work was appreciated all throughout the dining room.

Things went smoothly, and the end of the night approached at last. When the last of the diners had finally trickled out, and the doors were locked for the evening, Tissaia helped get the tables cleared, then caught her breath for what felt like the first time that night. She stood under the lighted rose trellis, admiring Jaskier’s work.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She turned with a start. Regis stood beside her, admiring the trellis.

“It really is,” she said, tracing the petals of one of the roses. “Jaskier outdid himself, and the customers loved it. This was perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

“Indeed it was. His creativity is really something else,” Regis said with a smile, then turned to the dining room. 

“Essi, dear, could you bring everyone out from the kitchen, please?” he asked the waitress. 

She nodded, then ran off. 

When all the staff had assembled in the dining room, Regis addressed them.“My dears, thank you all for another splendid dinner service. Tonight went wonderfully, and it was all thanks to your hard work. You all deserve a day off, but as you know, the show must go on, and we are open tomorrow as well. I would, however, like to show my gratitude by offering everyone a round of champagne to celebrate a lovely evening.”

There was a chorus of excitement, and Regis smiled. 

He waved his hand to get their attention again. “The roses on the trellis are my gift to whomever would like some. Please don’t let them go to waste. But, before we indulge in a glass of champagne, I have one last gift to give.” He turned to Tissaia, and took her hand.

“My darling,” he said, looking at her. “I have saved my most meaningful gift for last. Your coming to Corvo Bianco has been a godsend to everyone here, truly, but to me most of all. You’ve risen to every challenge beautifully, and have gone above and beyond anything that has been asked of you. More importantly, you have lifted me up, and held my heart in your hands. I have now but one last thing to ask of you.”

Regis gracefully dropped to one knee before her. There was a collective gasp and time stood still as the entire staff held their breath.

“Tissaia de Vries, would you do me the highest honor of marrying me?”

He looked up at her, and the faerie lights reflected in his dark eyes, as Tissaia took a deep breath. This was still Regis, the same man whom she had accompanied to dinner so many times now. The man who had held her while she cried for the first, second, third and so forth times in several years, and the same man who had fallen asleep on her shitty couch with her in his arms, while they had watched ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’. She knew why he was doing this, but it still felt… magical. 

Tears came to her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. 

Regis smiled, and pulled a very old-looking grey velvet box from the inside pocket of his suit coat. He opened it, and pulled out a gold ring. He slid it gently onto her finger, and the room erupted with whooping and applause. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The chant began from the staff. 

Regis stood, and looked down at Tissaia. He was still smiling, but she saw his questioning look, as he waited for her to signal she was comfortable.  _ Screw it, we’ve gone this far. If this isn’t convincing, I don’t know what will be, _ she thought. She gave the slightest nod, and saw acknowledgement on his face. 

He stepped in close, and pulled her to him with a hand on her waist. His other hand cradled the back of her head, as he bent down, and brought his lips softly to hers in a chaste kiss. Tissaia buried her hands in Regis’ hair, and their kiss deepened ever so slightly. He tasted like earl grey tea and happiness, and she felt an electric current coursing through her veins. She could barely hear the cheering over her pounding heart. 

He pulled away, and she held his face, running her thumbs over his whiskers. Regis smiled at her, and Tissaia felt the deep wrinkle line form under her hand. 

“Let’s get a picture of you two under the trellis!” Triss said, waving the digital camera she had used to take the customers’ pictures that evening.

“Do you trust me?” Regis whispered, a sly look in his eyes. 

Tissaia nodded. He bent down, and lifted her into his arms bridal style. She wrapped her arms around his neck, surprised. 

“Smile!” Triss said, and snapped a picture. “Let’s get one of you kissing!”

Regis looked at Tissaia. She was already in way over her head, so she just went with it, and kissed him again, threading her fingers once again through his soft hair. 

He set her down gently, and beamed at the staff. “I am beyond pleased that you all could share this moment with us. But please, let’s all enjoy a glass of champagne!” 

Jaskier emerged from behind the bar with a tray of champagne flutes and two bottles. Once everyone had a glass, he raised his. “To Regis and Tissaia!” he toasted. Regis clinked his glass to Tissaia’s with a smile, before taking a sip.

“Now, to the real matter at hand,” Jaskier continued, looking very smug all of a sudden. “Anyone who was in on the pot now owes me money, so pay up!”

“What do you mean, ‘in on the pot’?” Tissaia asked him, narrowing her eyes.

Jaskier smirked at her, as he collected money from Triss and Lambert. “We had a pot going, as to when you two would get together officially, and I had called Valentine’s Day,” he said, grinning at her. Geralt shot Jaskier a seething look as he pressed a fifty into his hand.

Jaskier grinned and made a kissy face at him. “Thank you, sweetie.”* 

“You mean you  _ all _ had wagered on this?” Regis asked, watching all of his employees, in turn, handing Jaskier money.

“Yep,” Triss said irritably. “If only you’d done this over the weekend… then I could afford a new laptop.”

“You all had a pool going for me and Geralt! I thought this would be an opportunity to make some cash for myself.” Jaskier was nearly wiggling with excitement. 

“All right,” Geralt’s voice boomed over the group. “You all know what this means. I’m here all day tomorrow, and they’re not coming in.” He gestured to Regis and Tissaia. “Anyone who makes me have to call either of them for anything gets to clean out the grease traps.”

Regis looked at him. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Geralt, you were supposed to be off tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but when we started the pool, we all agreed that you two would get the next day off when you announced. You’re always here, working your asses off. Go enjoy each other’s company or something.” The chef smirked.

Tissaia wondered if Regis was blushing as hard as she was.  _ The entire staff… thought they’d make a good couple.  _

“Get out of here, we’ll close up!” Triss insisted. “It’s Valentine’s Day, go... be lovebirds!” She giggled at them and began to shoo them into the kitchen. 

Regis and Tissaia looked at each other helplessly. She shrugged. He inclined his head gracefully at Geralt and they went to collect their things. 

Regis helped Tissaia into her coat, and they set out into the parking lot together. Once they were out of sight of the back door, he turned to her. “I’m sorry, Tissaia, I wasn’t expecting... that,” he said, “I had no intention of asking you to be so… intimate.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She squeezed his hand, offering him a smile. “They’re all convinced now, so that was actually easy. I just… hadn’t kissed anyone in… a long time, that’s all.” She blushed at the thought. Regis had been her first kiss in five years.  _ And what a kiss… _ She was sure she would be thinking about it when she fell asleep that night.

“Neither had I,” he admitted, “although, I feel it may be a skill that is not quite forgotten with time.” He grinned at her.

Tissaia laughed, and took his arm. They walked to her car, which was parked next to his.

“I suppose this is goodnight, isn’t it, Ms. de Vries?”

“It is for me. I’ve been up since 5:00 a.m., and I know you’ve probably been up just as long. Maybe we can have a ‘lovebirds’ breakfast tomorrow or something,” she offered jokingly.

Regis smiled and pulled Tissaia into a tight hug, and she held him just as tightly. 

“Thank you, Regis… for everything.”

“My darling, you needn’t thank me. I-”

“And yet I insist on it. So thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes, and pulled him down so she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, fiance.”

Before he could say anything, she turned away, blushing furiously, and got into her car. She turned the key, and… nothing. Frowning, she tried it again. Still nothing. She sighed and climbed back out. 

“Is everything all right?” Regis asked through the passenger window of his car.

“I’m not sure what’s wrong this time, but it won’t start,” she said sheepishly. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? I can try to get this looked at tomorrow.”

“Of course.” He got out, and came around to open the door for her.

On the way back to her apartment, Tissaia found herself looking at the ring on her hand. It was a thick gold band, with a large black stone (onyx, maybe?) set with a small diamond on either side, and the band had a delicate angel wing cut into either side of the setting. It was beautiful. 

She looked at Regis.“I hope this wasn’t terribly expensive,” she said, gesturing to the ring. “I didn’t mean to cost you actual money with this fake engagement.”

He smiled, still watching the road. “It cost me nothing,” he said. “That was my mother’s ring.”

Tissaia stared at him open-mouthed. “Regis! You didn’t have to give me this! I.... I’ll give it back as soon as possible. I feel terrible.”

“Tissaia, that ring has been sitting in a drawer for almost twenty years. My mother would be overjoyed that someone is wearing it and enjoying it. If she had heard what happened, and that you had no jewelry of your own because of your ex-husband, she would have forced it on you herself, so I am afraid I must insist.”

“I- Thank you so much… it’s beautiful.”

“Then it is very fitting for you,” he said softly. 

They turned into Tissaia’s parking lot, and she waited for Regis to open the door for her. He walked with her all the way to her apartment door as he had done the last time he brought her home.

“Well,” she said, turning the key in the lock, “I think it might  _ actually  _ be goodnight, this time.”

Regis kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, my darling. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

She pushed open the door and frowned. The air coming from inside the apartment was freezing. “That’s odd,” she said, looking into the dark apartment. “The power can’t be out, because the building has power.” She reached inside, and turned on the light. It came on, further cementing her theory.

“Perhaps your heat has somehow switched itself off?” Regis suggested.

“Maybe so.”

He followed her into the apartment, looking around. It was uncomfortably cold, but they could hear the furnace running. 

Tissaia set down her purse. “I guess I’ll have to call maintenance in the-” She froze, looking into the kitchen. Her heart dropped. Her eyes filled with tears, as she fell back against the wall. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Regis asked, striding across the living room to join her. Tissaia pointed into the kitchen with a shaking hand. His eyes followed, and widened when he saw what she was pointing at: Tissaia’s entire coffee cup collection lay on the kitchen floor, shattered to pieces.

Immediately, he pulled her to him. “Tissaia, darling, listen to me. We need to leave, and call the police.” 

He grabbed her purse and keys, and pulled her out the door, locking it behind them. He noticed the shattered glass under the living room window as they left.

They got back to Regis’ car, and she collapsed into the seat, tears running down her face. He stood beside her, on the phone, holding her hand until the police arrived. He explained what had happened, and she only had to answer a few questions about the incident, namely who she thought was involved, and when she had been to the apartment last. 

“Last question, I promise, ma’am,” the leading officer said, closing his notebook. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay for the next few days? We’ll need some time to process the scene, and you’ll need to get the window replaced...”

“She’ll be staying with me,” Regis said firmly, squeezing Tissaia’s hand.

Regis went upstairs with one of the officers to get Tissaia some clothes, while she sat in the car. She was terrified that Stregobor knew where she lived, and had gone so far as to break into her apartment. 

They were given the go-ahead to leave, and told that Tissaia would be notified when they were done with her apartment, and if they found anything. The silent drive to Regis’ house seemed to last a lifetime. When they arrived, he let her into the house, then went to retrieve the small bag of her belongings. 

Tissaia slipped out of her shoes and sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table in front of her. It seemed she was unable to cry again. She was afraid of Stregobor. While he had never physically abused her, the emotional anguish he had caused in the past, and continued to put her through, was more than enough. She’d never be free of him, she realized. The thought made her feel so small and defeated. She wished she’d never met the man, and cursed herself for falling for him all those years ago. 

She was pulled back to the present by the sound of Regis closing the door. He locked it, trying the door to make sure it wouldn't open, then turned to her. “I tried to make sure you had everything you might need,” he said, setting down Tissaia’s bag on the coffee table in front of her. “I am certain I missed some things, but I didn’t want to get in the way of the officers. If you need anything... anything at all, Tissaia, it will be taken care of, I promise.”

She slowly looked up at him, and nodded.  _ Say something, thank him, be polite! _ her brain yelled at her, but Tissaia just… couldn’t. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she looked at the bag. Regis seated himself on the couch beside her, and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes, breathing in his smell, as if filling her lungs with it could chase away the horrors.

“My darling, I cannot begin to imagine the stress you’re under. We will talk to Vesemir about this first thing tomorrow. He will know what to do.” His hands massaged small circles into her tense shoulder muscles, until Tissaia relaxed against him. One by one, he pulled out the pins that held her hair in its tight bun, until it fell loose to her shoulders. Regis ran a hand through her hair, his fingertips brushing lightly against her scalp. “As unpleasant as this is, it will cement your case against him for harassment. I am certain Vesemir will agree with me on this.”

Regis pulled away, giving her a reassuring smile. Tissaia leaned her head back into his hand and looked up at him. He was so kind to her, so generous, that he had offered to share his home with her without a second thought. Her heart brimmed with the desire to tell him how much she appreciated him, and all he was doing for her, but her lips would not move.

“I believe I have a loaf in the freezer, from Eskel’s last attempt at the perfect banana bread. I’ll run you a bath, and perhaps get some toasting in the oven for us, shall I?”

“...Okay.” Her voice came out as a choked whisper.  _ Tell him he doesn’t have to go to the trouble. Be polite!  _ the voice in her head screamed, but Tissaia no longer had the fight in her. It had slipped away, shattered, like the cups on her kitchen floor.

Regis stood, and offered her a hand up, then picked up her bag and pulled her along with him to a bedroom down the hallway. 

“This is the guest bedroom, and it’s yours for as long as you wish,” Regis said, setting down Tissaia’s bag on the bed. He left the room to start the bath, and Tissaia idly started taking things out of the bag.

He had packed her toothbrush, hairbrush, extra hairpins, deodorant, shampoo, and conditioner. For clothes, she had two long-sleeved shirts, and a pair of black jeans, as well as several pairs of underwear and socks, and a bra. Tissaia found it odd that Regis had clearly been in her underwear drawer, and she was too worn out to even be embarrassed.

She stood there, staring at her small pile of belongings, until she felt Regis’ hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him. 

He was smiling at her, but the wrinkle line was nowhere to be seen. “Come, my lady, your bath awaits,” he said, with an exaggerated bow.

He led her through a large dimly-lit bedroom, to what looked like the master bathroom of the house. It was probably his bedroom that she had gone through, but Tissaia had been focused on her feet hitting the floor with every step. There was a large freestanding bathtub and a walled-in shower across from it, with a toilet and sink along the back wall. The room was a lovely shade of forest green, with floral wallpaper coating the bottom half of the walls, and a cream colored curtain with a climbing ivy pattern hung around the tub. Tissaia could smell the vanilla-lavender scent coming from the steaming bath, and saw that Regis had lit a candle on the sink for her. 

He set down a fluffy-looking grey bathrobe and a fluffier-looking green towel on the small table that stood beside the tub, and turned to her. “I’ll return to check on you in a while. The hot bath will do you good. You’ve been on your feet all day and night.” 

He closed the door behind him, and Tissaia heard his footsteps retreating back down the hall towards the kitchen. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked wretched, with her blotchy red eyes and messy hair. She stripped off her work clothes, and stepped into the hot water, holding onto the sides of the tub as she sat down.

She watched the faucet drip for a few minutes, then her eyes travelled to her feet beneath the water, then followed up her legs, stopping at her hands on her lap. Tissaia lifted her left hand above the water, and looked at the ring.  _ Regis’ mother’s ring. _ What had she gotten him into? He was her boss, and now he was stuck pretending they were engaged, and having her stay with him. She pulled the ring from her finger, setting it on the table beside her.

_ No one will ever want you after me. _ Stregobor’s voice echoed in her head, and Tissaia thought of all of the things he had taken from her. The image of Irene’s coffee cups shattered on the floor was burned into her mind, and the idea that all her efforts to get away from her ex-husband had been in vain… everything crashed down on her at once. Tissaia brought her knees to her chest and sobbed. 

_ I let him do this to me. This is my fault. He’s right, no one will want me. All I ever do is cry and run away.  _

There was a knock at the door, and it opened just a crack. “Tissaia, are you all right?” Regis asked softly. 

She wanted to answer him, to tell him she was fine. That it was nothing to worry about. But she couldn’t stop crying, and the tears stung her eyes.

“Pull the curtain around the tub, darling.”

With a shaking hand, Tissaia reached out and pulled the ivy curtain around her. She rested her cheek on her knees, her shoulders shaking as she cried. She saw Regis’ shadow through the curtain, as he entered the bathroom, and sat on the floor beside the tub, facing away from her.

“He can’t get to you here, it’s all right,” he said softly.

“He- he doesn’t have to,” Tissaia choked, “he already ruined me. I did this to myself, by marrying him. It’s… it’s my fault. I used to be someone, and now I’m just… broken and afraid. Every time I start to feel like I can be happy again, he finds a way to take it away from me.”

Regis’ hand came into view from under the curtain, and he held it out to her. Tissaia looked at his hand for a moment, through blurry tear-filled eyes, then slipped hers inside it. Regis laced his fingers between hers, and held her hand tightly.

“Tissaia, you  _ are still someone. _ You are not reduced to what this horrible man has done to you. I have seen the lovely person that you are with my own eyes. I’ve spent countless hours with you, teaching you, learning from you, watching you  _ be you. _ No one can take that away,” he said firmly, giving her hand a squeeze.

“And this was  _ not _ your fault. No one asks to be abused.” Regis ran his thumb over her hand. “My mother was assaulted, shortly before she married my father. She blamed herself, and found it very difficult to like anything about herself for a long time.” 

He traced the inside of her wrist, flexing his hand against hers. “My father loved her with all his heart. It destroyed him, to see her punishing herself for someone’s crimes against her. He dedicated his life to helping her see the beauty inside her, the beauty that he saw every day.” Regis squeezed Tissaia’s hand again. 

“That is why, on their wedding day, he presented her with the ring that I gave you. There is an inscription on the inside of the band of the last two lines from Shakespeare’s 18th sonnet. My mother loved Shakespeare’s poetry. Well, all of his work, but especially his poetry. Are you familiar with Sonnet 18?”

Tissaia shook her head, then realized he couldn’t see her. “No,” she whispered.

Regis cleared his throat, and recited it for her:

_ Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? _  
_ Thou art more lovely and more temperate: _  
_ Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, _  
_ And summer’s lease hath all too short a date; _  
_ Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, _  
_ And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; _  
_ And every fair from fair sometime declines, _  
_ By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd; _  
_ But thy eternal summer shall not fade, _  
_ Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; _  
_ Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, _  
_ When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: _  
_ So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, _  
_ So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.  _

“The last two lines denote that all the previous lines will always hold true about the subject. As long as people are alive, that person’s loveliness and beauty will never fade. And that is what my father wanted her to remember, every time she saw the ring he gave her. It is also why I gave it to you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I wanted for you to remember how wonderful you are, despite your concern that people see you only as strict. Now, I want you to have it also as a reminder that others’ actions against you do not define you. Your loveliness will never fade, Tissaia.”

Tissaia felt a tingle all the way to her toes. “Regis, I…” she shook her head. All her words seemed completely inadequate in the face of such boundless generosity and kindness. “You are.... thank you.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome, my darling. I’ll go see to that banana bread and let you finish up here. Take your time.” 

She heard the door click shut as Regis left. She leaned back and shut her eyes, willing herself to focus on the rich heat and soothing smell of the water. Not much time had passed, however, when her stomach let out a rumble, and she realized it had been hours since the few quick bites of an early dinner she’d had before the dinner rush. 

Had that really been today? It was hard to believe the proposal and kiss ( _ Fake proposal and fake kiss, _ she reminded herself) had been only a few hours ago. 

She slipped out of the bath, toweled off, and wrapped herself up in the cozy robe that also, she couldn’t help but notice, smelled like Regis. Tissaia started to head for the sink, but the ring on the side table caught her eye. She picked it up, and held it under the light, squinting at the inside of the band. Sure enough, the inscription was there, just as Regis had said. 

_ So long as men can breathe or eyes can see _  
_ So long lives this, and this gives life to thee _

She slid it back onto her finger. It was a precious gift, and she would treasure it along with all the thought that Regis had put behind it. After giving her hair a quick comb-through, she padded down to the kitchen and found Regis waiting with a steaming cup of tea and thick slice of banana bread. 

She sank into the chair he pulled out for her. “The bath was lovely. Thank you, Regis. I feel like all I do is thank you these days, but really, I’m… so grateful.”

He sat in the chair next to hers. “It is truly my pleasure. I have no doubt that you would do the same for me.”

She dove into the banana bread. “Mmm, compliments to Eskel. This is delicious.” 

“I believe this was the batch he determined was ‘mediocre at best’,” he chuckled. 

With her stomach sated, Tissaia felt her eyes beginning to droop. Regis, of course, noticed right away. 

“You should get to bed, my darling. What a day you’ve had.” 

It was hard to argue with that. 

She followed him back to the guest room and turned to face him at the door. “Thank you, Regis.” 

“You are most welcome.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Actually...” She suddenly remembered. “Um… could I borrow something to sleep in?”

He looked confused for a moment, then his eyes went wide. “I knew I’d forgotten something.” 

She couldn’t help but giggle at the expression on his face. 

“Oh, I am so sorry!” He vanished into his bedroom, then bustled back a moment later. “Here, will these do? They’ll be too big, I’m sure, but…” He handed her a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. 

“Yes, they’ll be fine. Thank you.” 

Their eyes met, and his seemed heavy with emotion. She suddenly wondered if there was something he wasn’t saying. 

But now was not the time. “Good night,” she said quietly, and gave him a soft smile. 

“Good night.” He watched as she shut the door. 

She was completely and utterly exhausted. It was all she could do to pull on the pants and t-shirt. They were definitely too big on her, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She crawled into the bed and flopped her head onto the pillow, waiting for sleep to take her. 

But the moment the silence fell around her, her eyes snapped open. She could see Stregobor sneering at her. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered to herself, pulling the covers up right to her chin. “Regis is right across the hall. You’re safe.” 

Determinedly, she shut her eyes and willed herself to relax, one body part at a time. She focused on uncurling her toes, feeling her legs sinking into the mattress, letting go of the tightness in her jaw… and she drifted off. 

She dreamed about Regis. They were back under the Valentine’s Day trellis, the rest of the staff surrounding them, smiling. Regis reached for her face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “May I kiss you?” he asked. 

Tissaia nodded and watched him come closer, but at the last second, his eyes were wrong. They were icy blue instead of warm and dark. Dry lips pressed against hers, and hands grabbed her shoulders in an iron grip. 

“Ow!” she cried, pulling away. “You're hurting me!” She was looking at a smirking Stregobor. 

She screamed and fought to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let go. She looked around in a panic, but they were alone. 

“Did you think he was going to save you?” Stregobor asked her mockingly. “Did you think he actually cares about you?” 

“Stop! Let go of me!” she cried. 

“Your precious Regis doesn’t love you.” His hands squeezed tighter. “No one does.” 

“REGIS!” she screamed, and lurched up in the bed. Her breath came in panicked gasps. She shuddered and covered her face with her hands. 

Regis came bursting in the door. 

“Tissaia!” He was at her side in an instant, an arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?” 

She buried her face into his shoulder. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just had a… a bad dream.” 

“Was it… him?” Regis asked. She could see the kindness and concern in his eyes, even in the dark.

With a sniffle, she nodded. “I can’t get away from him.” 

Regis wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her closer. He rocked her gently against him, running a soothing hand over her hair. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 

Tissaia breathed in his smell, willing her heart to slow down.  _ He’s right. Stregobor can’t get to me here. I am going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. _ But the fear was still there, in the back of her mind: a nagging thought that no matter what she did, he would always find some way to hurt her.

She was pulled back to the present when Regis gave her a final squeeze, and pulled away.

“You’ll need to get some rest. Remember, we’re going to breakfast in the morning.” He let go of her, and got up to leave, but Tissaia caught his hand. Regis looked back at her.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered. She felt pathetic, but she didn’t want to be alone. The surprise on his face was replaced with understanding, and his face softened.

“As you wish, darling,” he whispered back. 

She laid back, moving over to make room, and Regis laid down beside her, pulling the blankets back up to cover them both. While they weren’t touching, Tissaia could feel the heat coming from his body, and she felt safe. Their hands met in the space between them, and hers curled inside his as she drifted back to sleep, peacefully this time.


	6. "Good Morning"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected day off has a promising beginning for Tissaia and Regis, but it quickly becomes apparent that Stregobor won’t allow them any peace. Despite all, Tissaia must put on a brave face and present herself as Regis’ fiancé, convincing others that they’re madly in love while reminding herself that it’s just a ruse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: verbal abuse, non descriptive.

Tissaia woke to something tickling her face. She cracked her eyes open to see the sunlight beginning to creep dimly through the bedroom window. She briefly wondered where she was, until she saw the lock of silvery hair laying across her nose, and the events of the previous night came flooding back to her mind. Regis lay behind her, his body flush against hers. His arm was around her waist, disappearing beneath her ribs and holding her tightly to his chest. One of his knees lay between hers. She could feel his head against her neck, and the steady warmth of his breath on her shoulder told her Regis was still asleep. 

She gently brushed his hair from her face, and relaxed. This was… nice. Tissaia was so warm and comfortable, she didn’t want to move. She closed her eyes, and breathed in Regis’ fresh, woodsy smell. The moment was perfect, and she couldn’t help but wish she could wake up like this every morning…

Then her alarm went off. 

Her phone was sitting on the nightstand behind Regis, who stirred at the noise. He groaned, and unwound his arm from around her, rolling onto his back and fumbling for the phone. He must have found it, because the alarm’s offensive blaring had stopped. 

Tissaia sighed unhappily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I-” 

“S’alright, love,” Regis mumbled, rolling back over to her. He resumed his previous position, wrapping his body more tightly around hers. His other hand burrowed under the pillows, finding hers, and he buried his chin in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. His knee was between her thighs now, and his ankle hooked around one of hers.

Tissaia smiled. A blush rose to her cheeks, and she curled her fingers between his. She hadn’t thought there was a term of endearment she would enjoy more than “darling,” and yet… _love._ She knew he was half-asleep, but she also knew she would treasure the memory. Her list of choice Regis memories grew longer by the day.

She could tell the moment Regis woke up, first by the subtle shift in his breathing, then the way his eyelashes fluttered against her jaw. His wrist curled inward just the tiniest bit… and then his whole body tensed. She felt him trying to pull his leg away gently, attempting not to wake her, but his ankle around hers made sneaking away unnoticed impossible. She suppressed a giggle.

“Tissaia... are you awake?” he asked softly. The rumble of his voice in his chest felt lovely against her back, only making her more comfortable. 

“Yes.” She curled her fingers around his just a little tighter. “I didn’t mean to leave my alarm on, I’m sorry if it woke you.”

“I should be the one to apologize, I… I didn’t mean to be quite so… _familiar_ with you,” he said sheepishly, pulling his leg from between hers. “It’s an unfortunate sleeping habit of mine. Whenever I’ve... shared a bed with anyone, I have always woken... wrapped around that person.” He sounded so self-conscious, Tissaia felt a little bad enjoying his touch. Not nearly bad enough to motivate her to move away from it, though. His head still lay against hers, and his arm remained around her waist.

“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked him, somewhat afraid of what his answer might be.

“Quite the opposite… but I thought perhaps you might be.”

“No, this is nice.”

Regis extracted his hand from beneath her ribs, flexing his fingers. He pulled away from her shoulder, laying back on the pillow with a yawn. Tissaia was sad when he took his hand away from hers, until she felt a gentle tugging at her shoulder. 

She rolled over, and Regis smiled at her. “Good morning,” he whispered. He draped his arm around her waist, resting his hand behind her shoulder blades. 

“Good morning,” she repeated, smiling back at him.

Regis looked adorable. He had a line across his cheek from the shoulder seam of her t-shirt, and his hair was endearingly tousled, a few wisps hanging in his face. His eyes were half closed as he smiled at her from behind his feathery black lashes. But most importantly, the deep wrinkle had formed from the corner of his lip all the way to his cheekbone, and that pleased Tissaia immensely.

She reached up, and brushed his hair from his face, letting her hand linger for just a moment before running it gently through his hair. There was a pressure in her chest at the touch, and she felt a strong urge to kiss him again, remembering how soft his lips had been on hers. She must have made some expression as she banished the thought from her mind, because Regis looked at her inquisitively.

“Would it be terribly bold of me, to ask for your thoughts, Ms. de Vries?” he asked softly, bringing his other hand to hold the back of her head. 

Tissaia bit her lip. “I… was just thinking about last night,” she admitted, trying desperately not to blush. She was terrified of making things awkward for him. After all, he’d only kissed her to convince the staff they were together.

“Which part? Last night was… well, it was certainly a lot to take in.”

 _The GOOD part!_ she wanted to say. _The part where you kissed me, and made me feel perfect._

Instead, Tissaia just smiled. “I just… wasn’t expecting for things to go quite the way they did. After the dinner service, I mean. That was quite a performance, with the proposal.”

“You did say I should ask you properly.”

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

They looked at each other in a brief silence, and Tissaia felt like the small space between them was charged with an electric current. She closed her eyes, willing herself to stop thinking about kissing Regis.

“So, what now, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy?” His beautiful, long name rolled off her tongue with what felt like a spark of magic, and she opened her eyes to look at him again. _What a sight to wake up to._ She couldn’t stop the thought. A shiver ran down her spine as one of his fingertips lightly grazed the back of her ear. 

“Well,” he began thoughtfully, threading his fingers through her hair. “Our original plan had been to meet for breakfast, although we won’t need to meet now, since we are already together.”

 _Already together._ Tissaia’s heart skipped a beat, and she kicked herself mentally. _He means we are physically in the same location._

“And I need to give Vesemir a call as soon as possible. Ideally, we should set up a meeting today. The entire case has become a great deal more urgent, and he will need to be more closely involved going forward.”

Tissaia nodded in agreement. “And I need to see about getting my car towed from the restaurant.”

Regis made a small ‘hmmm’ sound. “What time is it?” His arm tightened around her as he let out another yawn, and Tissaia did not fail to notice.

“I think my alarm was set for 6:00 a.m. for work,” she said, “but that was a little while ago. If you grab my phone, we can check.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We’re both off today. I don’t suppose it really matters what time it is, does it?” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” 

Regis smiled, and his eyes fluttered closed. He gently ran his fingers along the curve between her hip and her ribs. Tissaia allowed herself to enjoy the goosebumps that his touch left behind, and she found her eyes closing as well. 

The next time she blinked, the room was fully lit with the sunlight pouring in from the window. And Regis was watching her. 

“Oh,” she laughed, stretching. “Did I fall back asleep?” 

“Indeed. It seems we’ve both managed to sleep in quite a bit, actually. It’s nearly 10:30!” 

“Ten-thirty?” Tissaia exclaimed. “I haven’t slept this late since… well, I can’t even remember!”

“After the day you had, I’m sure you needed it. I hadn’t the heart to wake you.” 

Tissaia’s thoughts about how long Regis had lay there watching her were interrupted when her stomach rumbled loudly in the momentary silence. Her initial instinct was to be embarrassed, but he was looking at her so fondly. 

“And now,” he said, “it would seem you need something to eat.” 

On the one hand, Tissaia never wanted this moment to end, but on the other…. she was rather hungry. “Yes, I think you’re right.” 

“Allow me just a few minutes to freshen up, and I’ll get coffee and breakfast going. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready to get up.” Regis gave her shoulder a squeeze, then sat up, allowing himself a brief stretch. “There’s no need to rush,” he added, as he headed for the bedroom door.

Tissaia watched him go, then pulled the blanket over her face. Her brain swirled with a million conflicting thoughts about Regis and Stregobor. How could things simultaneously be so horrendous and so wonderful? Her day was off to the best start she could possibly imagine, and she was determined to focus on that. 

She climbed out of bed and caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror that hung on the closet door. Regis’ pajama pants and shirt looked almost comically big on her, but she thought the effect was maybe a little… adorable, particularly combined with her sleep-tousled hair. She decided it was fine to wear pajamas to breakfast. 

She went to brush her teeth in the hall bathroom, then ran her fingers through her hair, before making her way to the kitchen. 

Regis was already there. Tissaia smiled to see he had kept his pajamas on as well. He was operating a coffee grinder, and the coffee smelled like heaven. He switched off the grinder, and smiled when he saw her enter the kitchen.

“That smells amazing! What is it?” she asked, coming to stand beside him. 

“I joined a monthly roast subscription for a local coffee shop, Brew of a Thousand Fables. This is their ‘Waking Sleeping Beauty’ roast,” Regis said, gesturing to the bag of coffee beans. “I thought it an appropriate title for this morning.” He looked down at Tissaia.

_Was that a wink?_

He loaded the coffee maker and turned it on. While it brewed, Regis pulled out two coffee cups for them, and the cream from the fridge for hers. Tissaia hadn’t thought it was possible, but the coffee smelled even better brewing than it had grinding, and she couldn’t wait to try it.

“I’m sorry again, about forgetting to pack your pajamas,” he said as they waited. He leaned against the counter and looked down at her, surveying the clothes she wore. “I hope mine did the trick?” 

“Oh, yes, of course. They’re a little big, but very comfortable.” 

“Well, they look… nice on you.” 

If Tissaia didn’t know better, she could swear Regis was blushing the tiniest bit. _I knew it: adorable. Or maybe… he likes seeing me in his clothes._ The thought made her smile inwardly. She liked wearing Regis’ clothes. It felt like a constant hug. 

“We can go out and get you some new ones today, if you’d like?” he offered, pouring her the first cup of coffee.

She smiled, and shook her head as she added cream to her cup and stirred. “I… I like these,” she admitted softly. She secretly hoped he wouldn’t press the matter in an effort to be polite or sweet. “Plus there’s no need to spend extra money.”

“Then they are at your disposal.”

Tissaia tried the coffee, and closed her eyes. It felt like drinking melted chocolate while sitting around a campfire on a summer night. “Regis, this is incredible.”

"Isn't it, though? I must admit I've fallen in love with this blend. Although, their evening roast is the best decaf I have ever tried. Perhaps we'll brew some later tonight." He sounded so excited to share it with her, and it was making Tissaia’s heart do backflips.

She was just about to say something when she spotted the black feathers adorning the bare skin of his arm, peeking out just below the sleeve of his grey t-shirt. 

Regis followed her eyes, and smiled. “So you’ve found one of my birds,” he said softly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“May I?”

He nodded, and Tissaia gently pulled the sleeve up over his shoulder, to reveal…

_A raven._

The bird’s wings were open, and its legs outstretched, as if to land on the back of his arm. The detail in the feathers was breathtaking. It was no wonder that he had gone back for more.

“It’s… beautiful,” she said, tracing the tail feathers that extended down Regis’ arm.

“Thank you… Dettlaff was quite talented. I personally feel that I wear his best work, but as you can probably imagine, I may be a bit biased in that opinion.”

Tissaia laughed. “Just a little bit.” She let his sleeve fall back down to cover the tattoo.

“How do you feel about waffles for breakfast?”

A short while later, they sat at the small breakfast nook created by the countertop between the kitchen and the living room. Regis had put a vinyl record on the turntable, and they were enjoying breakfast to the sound of Ella Fitzgerald singing ‘It’s Only a Paper Moon’.

Tissaia couldn’t help but find the moment just a little romantic. Regis was so gentle and sweet, and she noticed it in the small things, like how he hummed along to the music while they were washing the dishes together, or the way he softly brushed against her when he reached for the dish towel. She didn’t know how long she would be staying with him, but so far, it had been lovely. 

“It’s nearly 11:30,” Regis said, looking at the clock. “We’d better get dressed, darling. I’ll call Vesemir from the car.”

Tissaia hurried back to the bedroom, and put on her jeans, bra, and a pair of socks, then stopped. She looked out the window. There were tiny snowflakes coming down, and they didn’t appear to be melting as they hit the ground. She pulled on the fluffy robe, and opened the bedroom door.

“Regis?” 

“Hmmm?” came the reply from his closed bedroom door.

“Not to keep borrowing your clothes, but... “

The door opened, and Regis stood before her in brown corduroy pants and a half-buttoned cream colored dress shirt.

“Did you need something a bit warmer?” 

Tissaia tried not to look at the bare skin of his chest. “Could I borrow a sweater?”

He opened the door all the way, and gestured for her to come in. “I’ve quite a selection in the closet, feel free to choose whatever you’d like.” 

Tissaia entered the room, and the first thing she noticed was the perfect smell. The entire room was saturated in the lovely scent that she enjoyed on Regis and his clothes. She briefly wondered if it was a cologne. The room was slightly larger than hers, and in general had a very calming effect, with knotty pine wood panelled walls that reminded her of a log cabin, and a soft rug that was a mixture of sea greens and blues. Regis’ bed was neatly made with a deep blue comforter, and blue and white pillows. The closet took up most of the wall opposite the bed, and Tissaia could see that the top rack was mostly sweaters. 

_He wasn’t kidding about the selection._

She decided on a dark green cable-knit sweater hanging at the back. It seemed a little thicker, and she knew she would be chilly if they spent any amount of time outside. She turned around to thank Regis, but all thoughts flew from her mind when she saw him perched on the end of the bed, sliding a pair of suspenders over his shoulders. With his shirt still half-buttoned and untucked, and his hair hanging devil-may-care in his face, he looked up at her and smiled. Tissaia almost fainted. Regis was, in that moment, the exact combination of everything she had ever found attractive.

Tissaia felt her face flush, but she couldn’t look away. “I… you… you look nice!” she stammered. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, the faintest bit of color rising to his face. 

He tucked his shirt in, and she looked away, catching the breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She found herself hoping that circumstances would require them to kiss again, unable to even feel guilty about it. Maybe she wouldn’t need such a thick sweater, after all.

“That’s a good choice,” Regis said, catching her attention once more. He gestured to the sweater that she held tightly to her chest.

“Yes, the color is so nice, and it’s so soft…”

He stood, and came over to her, running a finger over the pattern on one of the sleeves. “My mother made it for me, knowing my love of soft things.” He finished buttoning his shirt, and turned back to the bed, picking up a tie. “You’ll find it very warm and comfortable, I’m sure.”

Deciding she’d been staring long enough, Tissaia excused herself, and went back into the other bedroom, closing the door behind her. _I can’t mess things up now by thinking about him… that way,_ she thought to herself, slipping out of the robe. As she pulled the impossibly soft sweater over her head, another thought made its way into her mind: _But now he’s my ‘fiance.’_

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing at the duality of the situation - it was so difficult to keep reminding herself not to fall for Regis. He was so gentle and sweet to her that she had been falling for him anyway, but it was even more difficult now, since he was pretending (very convincingly!) that he was in love with her. Tissaia dug around in the bag for her hair supplies. Armed with a hairbrush and pins, she opened the door, and set off to the hallway bathroom, where Regis was just finishing combing his hair back. He now wore a tweed vest, and a matching thin tie. Tissaia smiled at him, and ran the brush through her hair. She was beginning to bunch her hair up, to form her usual tight bun, when Regis slipped one of his hands around her waist from behind.

“Your hair is beautiful when you wear it down. That is to say, it always looks beautiful, of course,” he added quickly. “I just… wanted you to know that.” He ran his fingers over the knit patterns in the sweater she wore.

His eyes met hers in the mirror, and she turned to face him, praying he couldn’t notice the goosebumps that were suddenly spreading across her entire body.

“I… I never really consider wearing it down too often, since we work with food, and I’m always at work,” she said, setting down the pins on the sink. “I could, if… if you think that’s okay,” _If you’d like me to._ “I just thought I’d better look at least a little professional, since we’re meeting with a lawyer.”

Regis chuckled. “Vesemir is a friend. He won’t lose any respect for you based on your appearance.” He brought his hand up to her shoulder, and rubbed a small circle into the sweater. “What you should bear in mind is that he is Geralt’s father, and they share the same warm center under the gruff exterior… for the most part.”

Tissaia laughed, picturing Geralt, but older and grumpier. “Hair down it is, then.”

Regis pulled away, and started back into the hall. “I’m going to get the car started,” he called back to her. “I’ll come back in for you, darling, no need to wait in the cold.”

She went back into the guest bedroom and grabbed her phone and her purse, remembering she needed to keep an eye out for the police calling about her apartment. She made a mental note to call a tow truck for her car, as well. Tissaia made her way back into the living room, and pulled on her coat and shoes, then sat down on the couch to wait for Regis. She unlocked her phone screen, checking to make sure she had no missed calls, and was shocked.

_Fifty-four text messages??_

The staff probably had something come up, and were afraid to call Regis.

She opened up the messages app, and scrolled through. All but one of the messages were from a restricted number, all filled with words like, “Slut!” or “Bitch!” There were a few calling her ugly and worthless, as well. Tissaia bit her lip. Her morning so far with Regis had been so wonderful that she had almost forgotten about last night’s horrible events, and she didn’t want to let the good mood slip away so quickly. Her eyes fell on the ring that sat on her hand, catching the sunlight from the window beside her, and she remembered Regis’ words from the night before.

_Your loveliness will never fade._

Stregobor was behind this, and he was not going to ruin her day, she decided. Determined, she scrolled on. At the end, there was a message that said “You’re not his type, hope you enjoy celibacy.” There was a photo attached, and Tissaia opened it. It was a slightly younger picture of Regis, with a handsome, dark-haired man who must have been Dettlaff. It was obvious they were in love, from the way his fingertips emerged from Regis’ then-black hair, and gently rested against his neck. If it hadn’t been clear that Dettlaff’s other hand held the camera, Tissaia would swear the picture was taken by a professional photographer. They looked cute together, she decided, going back to her inbox.

The last text was from Triss, and it made Tissaia smile. 

_Hey future Mrs. Boss <3 <3 <3 I still have your ENGAGEMENT PICTURES, so hit me up next time you come in :) also you’re so cute together! I’m so happy for you!!!_

The door opened, and Regis came back into the house, shaking the light dusting of snow from his coat and hair. 

“Come and see this,” she told him, gesturing to her phone.

He sat down beside her, and Tissaia scrolled through the messages again. As he read, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “Stop,” he said, when she reached the picture. “May I?” He gestured to her phone, and she handed it to him. Regis looked at the picture for a moment. “I haven’t seen this in a long time,” he said at last. “I can only assume the message that accompanied it was intended to hurt you.”

“It’s… it’s fine, I’m all right,” she said, fiddling with one of the buttons on her coat.

Regis sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have never appreciated how the world is always so quick to erase bisexual men,” he said softly. “To assume that since I fell in love with a man, I must be strictly attracted only to men, the idea is simply… unseemly. I long for the day when the eagerness to press one into a binary system is done away with.” He handed the phone back to her.

"Tissaia… I hope you see these insults for what they are - a desperate attempt to rattle you, by a man who knows his time for doing so has ended." Regis looked at her. There was a resolute hardness written in the lines of his face, but his eyes were kind. "As cruel as his intentions were in sending these to you, Stregobor is painting himself into a corner by continuing to contact you, and is giving further evidence in your case against him. Vesemir will need to see this."

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, by showing you that. I’m so sorry if I did.”

“I like seeing pictures of Dettlaff. I enjoy remembering him, he…” Regis paused, then chuckled. “He told me that he would return as a ghost and oversalt all the food in my restaurants to teach me a lesson, if he caught even the slightest hint of me not living my life after he passed. He had a flair for the dramatic, you see.”

Tissaia smiled, glad that Stregobor was unable to shake Regis.

“I am curious, however, as to how your ex-husband obtained the picture he sent you. Dettlaff took it, as you could see. Unfortunately, I somehow overheated his phone after he passed away, and all of the pictures were lost… More for Vesemir to look into, I suppose.” He stood, and offered her a hand up. “I’m sure he will know what to do, my darling. Shall we?”

"Are we meeting Vesemir at his office?" Tissaia asked, once they had gotten settled in the car.

Regis smiled. "We'll be meeting him for a late lunch. Have you been to the other restaurant yet?"

"No, I haven't." Lavinia’s was a seafood place on the other side of town, and while she’d heard Regis talk about it a lot, she hadn’t made it out there yet. 

First they called a tow truck company and arranged to meet them at Tissaia’s car. With that taken care of, they stopped briefly at Regis’ new restaurant building, so that he could have a quick chat with the project manager about the renovations, and then they arrived at Lavinia’s. 

The instant they stepped past the door, a beautiful raven-haired woman was on them, greeting Regis warmly and kissing him on both cheeks. 

“Yennefer.” He said her name like they were old friends. 

“It’s so good to have you in today, Regis. How are things?” 

“Well…” Regis cleared his throat and slid an arm around Tissaia. “Things are wonderful. May I introduce you to my fiance, Tissaia de Vries? She is managing Corvo.” 

Yennefer’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Tissaia, this is Yennefer Vengerberg, the manager of Lavinia’s.” 

“Fiancé?” Yennefer turned an appraising eye over to Tissaia. “How… surprising.” She managed to smooth the astonishment from her expression. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tissaia.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” Tissaia extended her hand and gave Yennefer a firm shake. “I've heard so many good things about you.” 

“Hmm.” 

Tissaia knew what she must be thinking: _And yet, I’ve heard nothing at all about you._

“Not from Geralt, surely,” Yennefer added dryly. 

Tissaia laughed. “Geralt doesn’t say much about anyone, to be fair.” 

“True.” 

Tissaia felt like Yennefer’s indigo-coloured eyes were looking right through her. 

Mercifully, Regis spoke next. “Has Vesemir arrived?” 

“Just. He’s back in the private room,” Yenn nodded her head towards the back. “Can I bring you your usual?” 

“That would be splendid, thank you.”

“And what can I get you to drink, Tissaia?” 

“May I please have a sparkling water?”

Yennefer smiled, but Tissaia felt like the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Coming right up.” 

They made their way to the back of the restaurant, and Tissaia was hyper-aware of Regis’ hand resting lightly on the small of her back as they walked. 

When they reached the back room, Tissaia saw a distinguished older gentleman waiting for them at a beautifully set table for three. He looked about 60, with grey hair, a square jaw, and broad shoulders. Tissaia could see Geralt in him immediately. He rose when they entered the room. 

“Regis,” he said, his voice a rich, low rumble. 

“Vesemir,” Regis smiled. They shook hands, then the older man reeled him in for a hug. 

“And this must be Tissaia.” His eyes were a warm amber, different from Geralt’s golden eyes, but equally as molten. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Vesemir-” Before she could begin thanking him, he wrapped her in a bear hug. 

When she pulled back to meet his eyes, his lips were pressed together in a grim line. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. I’m here to help in any way I can.” He gestured to the table and then pulled out Tissaia’s chair for her. 

As they were settling, Yennefer appeared with their drinks. Sensing the mood in the room, she departed quickly, closing the door behind her. 

Vesesmir flipped open a black leather-bound notebook and picked up his pen. He leveled his gaze at Tissaia. “Now, tell me everything.” 

Regis and Tissaia took turns filling Vesemir in on the break-in, and showed him the messages on Tissaia’s phone. Explaining the fake engagement was a little awkward, but Vesemir maintained his professional manner, aside from perhaps the slightest eyebrow arch.

Vesemir only interrupted to ask the odd question. Otherwise, he was silent, his jaw tighter and tighter at every detail. When they finished, he took a few minutes to review his notes. 

“From where I’m sitting, you have a firm case against Stregobor,” he said, looking up from his notebook. “My only real concern is that we will have to prove that he was the one to break into your apartment, and send those messages. From what you’ve told me about him, I’m sure he thought of this, and had someone else do it for him.”

Tissaia’s heart sank. Stregobor would get away with what he’d done. Eventually, the fake engagement would be uncovered, and she would have to endure him just as she had done for the past eight years.

Regis’ hand found hers on the table, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“But,” Vesemir continued, taking a sip of his drink, “I think you threw him off, with the proposal. Everything you’ve described afterwards tells me that he is getting bolder. Angry, perhaps. I’d wager he’ll make a mistake soon, if he hasn’t already, and I’m ready to nail his ass to the wall.”

Regis nodded. “I agree. Texting Tissaia, especially with the photo, after I threatened him with legal repercussions should he continue harassing her… he’ll give us something.”

“I think it would be for the best if the knowledge of the true nature of your ‘engagement’ stayed between us three,” Vesemir said, looking from Regis to Tissaia. “I also think the best way to push him into acting foolishly, is to play the part. That is to say, that you are in love, and nothing he can do has any hold on you. I think that’ll do it.”

“I think we can manage that,” Regis said, turning to Tissaia. “What do you think, darling?”

 _Romance with Regis to make Stregobor upset?_ “I’m in.”

Yennefer brought their food, the seafood lunch special, and the conversation turned to embarrassing childhood stories about Geralt that had Tissaia laughing so hard that her sides hurt. Eventually, Vesemir rose to leave.

“If you need anything, let me know. If anything happens, or if he tries to contact you again, call me right away.”

“I will,” Tissaia promised. 

“You lovebirds enjoy the rest of your afternoon,” he said teasingly, “and congratulations on the engagement!”


	7. Jealousy, Coffee, and a Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day off continues with a whirlwind of different emotions for Tissaia - from jealousy over Regis' beautiful admirer, to guilt over the fake engagement... all the while, enjoying the affection he gives her, pretend or not.

Regis helped Tissaia back into her coat, and they headed for the door, waving goodbye to Yennefer.

“What _are_ we doing for the rest of the afternoon?” she asked, as he got into the driver’s seat of the car.

“I wondered if you might consider helping me with something,” he said, glancing over at her as he started the car.

“Of course! What do you need?” Tissaia was happy to help. After all, Regis had done so much for her.

“Do you remember the coffee shop I told you about this morning? Brew of a Thousand Fables?”

She nodded, remembering the delicious smell of the coffee he had made.

“The owner of the shop, Annarietta, she… she’s a pleasant woman, to be sure, but… she has been quite _forward,_ in her advances toward me, and all of my attempts to let her down easily have failed. I would still like to visit the shop sometimes, but I need to convince her that I am unavailable. I thought perhaps, with our engagement, I might persuade you to help me?”

_Was he asking her to-?_

“I would never ask anything of you that makes you uncomfortable, and I will understand if you decline, but-”

“Of course I’ll help you! You’ve helped me, it’s the least I can do!” Tissaia squeezed Regis’ arm. “What do you need me to do?”

Regis blushed. “Would you allow me to kiss you?” he asked softly, his eyes firmly on the road.

_YES. A THOUSAND TIMES YES._

Tissaia took a moment to gather the courage for what she wanted to say, her heart pounding in her throat. “Regis, I… I think with everything going on… you don’t need to ask.” She toyed nervously with the sleeve of her coat. “You can kiss me… whenever you’d like… or when you need to. I mean, engaged couples don’t exactly hesitate.”

They stopped at a traffic light, and Regis turned to Tissaia, gazing at her carefully for a brief moment before turning his eyes back to the road. “But you _will_ tell me, if ever you are uncomfortable?”

“I promise, I will.”

They continued in silence for a bit. Tissaia wasn’t sure why, but she was anxious about meeting this Annarietta who was so taken with Regis. “Do you want me to call you ‘babe’, or ‘sweetie’?” she offered. “I don’t know if either of those really fit you, but I’m sure I could think of something,” 

Regis smiled as he put the car in park, then looked over at her. “You may call me Emiel."

"Emiel?"

He nodded. For someone who had just asked to kiss her, he looked rather shy. "It's… my first name," he explained.

"I thought Regis was your first name?"

He laughed quietly, and shook his head. “In Gharasham, the usage of one’s first name is considered a mark of the highest endearment, and is a privilege given only to those closest to one’s heart. It’s one of very few traditions I have clung to.”

Tissaia sat in stunned silence as he exited the car and came around to her side. If Regis still clung to the tradition, did that mean he considered her close to his heart? She decided she was probably reading too much into it, as usual. Regis helped her out of the car, and took her hand as they walked toward the coffee shop entrance. When he opened the door, Tissaia’s nose was filled with the most amazing smell. 

Brew of a Thousand Fables looked like a charming cross between a Bavarian-style restaurant, and… a fantasy world, made into a coffee shop. The walls were painted with woodland scenes and castles, and were littered with princesses, knights, faeries, and magical creatures. The wooden support posts scattered through the building were carved to resemble tree trunks. Tissaia felt like she had stepped into a fairy tale. 

They were approached by a woman who could only be the Annarietta to whom Regis referred. She was absolutely stunning, with crystal clear blue eyes, a fair complexion, and the most beautiful auburn hair that fell in curls around her waist. Tissaia didn’t need to pretend. The jealousy she felt was all too real, as she watched this woman who could be a fairy tale princess throw herself at Regis for a hug. 

“Regis! It’s so wonderful to see you again!” Annarietta was even more beautiful with her face lit by a dazzling smile. 

Regis patted her on the shoulder, looking over at Tissaia uncomfortably. “Annarietta, it’s good to see you as well. There’s someone very special I’d like you to meet.” He pulled away, and wrapped his arm around Tissaia’s waist, holding her close. “This is my fiancé, Tissaia.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Tissaia said, with a smile she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. She had absolutely no right to feel jealous, and Regis clearly wasn’t interested in Annarietta, and yet… she slid her arm around Regis’ waist and held him close. 

Annarietta’s eyes widened as she stepped back, her lips briefly pursed into a frown. Tissaia could feel tension as Annarietta looked her up and down. _Probably wondering why Regis chose someone like me over her,_ she thought to herself. _I don’t blame her._ She suddenly felt rather plain next to this gorgeous creature.

“Oh. It’s… nice to meet you too,” Annarietta said politely, but Tissaia could see the disappointment in her eyes. “Congratulations, Regis,” she said, eyes lingering on him sadly. 

Tissaia softened. Unrequited feelings were never pleasant. She wondered if she would be the one left with some, at the end of the debacle with Stregobor.

“Tissaia and I enjoyed some of the ‘Waking Sleeping Beauty’ roast this morning,” Regis said, running his fingers across her hip. Tissaia did her best to ignore the goosebumps creeping up her neck. 

“Yes, it was delicious! Regis said you roast it yourself?” Tissaia was glad to have a safe topic to distract from the obvious awkward feelings in the room. Annarietta appeared to feel the same.

“Yes! That one is actually one of our most popular roasts right now, what with the chocolate notes, and Valentine’s Day… We’ve sold almost all we had. My sister Syanna is roasting another batch in the back right now!” Annarietta smiled. “Turns out, the roast subscription was exactly what the shop needed. Business has been great since we started selling it online.”

“I had actually hoped to pick up another bag or two today,” Regis said wistfully, “but I understand if you’re out.” Tissaia’s sweater had slipped over his hand, and she almost jumped when his thumb grazed her bare skin.

Annarietta shook her head, and her curls swayed around her with the movement. “I’ll give you what I have left, as an engagement gift, and I can drop off however much you’d like to buy at the restaurant on my way home tomorrow, if you want?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much!” 

At that moment Regis’ phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Corvo. I’ll just take this outside.” He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Tissaia’s lips.

She felt an instant rush of heat to her cheeks, and hoped that Annarietta didn’t notice. 

“I’ll be right back, darling,” he said, in a low, private voice. Tissaia smiled and held his hand as he stepped away, letting his fingers slowly trail out of hers. She watched him leave, then turned to look at the other woman. 

Annarietta was watching her with a small smile. “You’re very lucky to have him.” 

“Oh, I know,” Tissaia said quickly. “He is just… the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met.” Keeping up this part of the charade was easy because she meant every word. 

Annarietta nodded, and her head tilted to the side. “I can tell you really love each other. You look really… happy together.” 

Tissaia’s heart soared for a moment, until she forced herself to tether it back to the ground. _It’s fake. This is fake, Tissaia._

Regis came hurrying back up to them, his brow furrowed. 

“Is everything okay?” Tissaia asked, her stomach twisting. 

“That was Geralt. There’s been an incident at the restaurant. Everyone is okay,” he added quickly, seeing the expression on Tissaia’s face, “but it seems there was a small oven fire. We need to go.” 

Tissaia gasped and took Regis’ arm. “Yes, let’s go.” 

“Annarietta, if you could bring the coffee by Corvo tomorrow?” 

“Yes, of course. I hope it’s not serious.”

Tissaia noticed Annarietta kept her hands to herself this time, and waved as they left the shop. 

It was a quick drive to the restaurant, and Tissaia did her best to reassure Regis. He nodded, but the lines around his mouth were tight, and he drummed the steering wheel anxiously with his fingers. 

They hurried in the back door, but as they came around the corner into the kitchen they were met with a wall of noise. 

“SURPRISE!” 

They lurched to a stop, mouths open, and took in the sight of the entire staff crowded into the kitchen, grinning and waving balloons. 

“What…?” Regis started. 

“Congratulations on your engagement!” Triss came forward and wrapped them both in a hug. “Surprised?”

“Yes, I…” Regis looked around. “The fire…?”

“No fire,” Lambert announced, grinning broadly. He waved his arm at the counter with a flourish. “Eskel made you a cake.” 

Tissaia’s mouth dropped open. “Eskel made this? This morning?” 

The two-tiered cake on the counter was shaped like a heart, with a top layer that was half the size of the first. It was decorated with blue frosting that faded into grey, and was covered in tiny yellow stars, with a large blue-white moon that held the words “Regis and Tissaia - a match made in the heavens.” It looked like it belonged on the pages of a wedding magazine. 

Eskel nodded shyly, while Lambert looked ready to burst with pride. 

Tissaia gaped open-mouthed at the cake for a moment, then turned to Eskel. “Eskel, this is incredible. I can’t believe you made this for us.” 

Free roasted coffee, a gorgeous, elaborate cake… Tissaia was starting to feel a little bit guilty, because she didn’t deserve any of this. Not really. She was overwhelmed by the simple, sweet kindness that the staff… _her friends_ had shown her with the party, and the beautiful cake. 

“Thank you so, so much.” It was all she could do not to burst into tears.

“Will you do the honors?” Eskel handed her a cake knife. 

“Oh, I…Yes, if Regis will help me.” 

Regis slipped his arm around her waist and wrapped his fingers around hers on the knife handle. “Isn’t this how the cake is usually cut at the wedding?” he asked, looking down at Tissaia. “Would it be appropriate, doing so this early?” 

Triss laughed. “Who cares, it’s adorable. Smile!” She held up her camera and snapped a few more photos as they gently slid the knife into the cake. Tissaia tingled, thinking once again how safe and comfortable she felt when Regis held her in his arms. And she had to admit, it gave her even more of a thrill when he did so in public. 

The cake was absolutely heavenly, and Tissaia ate two pieces. She marveled at all the delicious food she’d had so far that day, unsure if she would have room for dinner at this rate. She was digging into her second piece when Eskel and Lambert sidled up to her and Regis, looking like they were bursting to say something. 

“So, uh…” Lambert began, then he slid his arm around Eskel’s waist. “We…” He paused, cheeks flushing. 

Tissaia furrowed her brow. She had never seen Lambert blush before. But then she saw the look Eskel gave him, pure unadulterated love and affection, and the realization of what he was trying to say dawned on her. But before she could speak, she saw Regis’ face split into a wide grin. “No! It finally happened? Did I… I won the pool, didn’t I?” 

Eskel slid an arm around Lambert’s shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “It seems you did, Regis. I don’t know how you knew it would happen and take almost five years!” 

“Well…” Regis looked so happy for them. “I saw the flame, I simply... knew it would be a slow burn. Congratulations, you two.” 

There was a soft smile on his face as he watched them wander away, hand in hand. Tissaia was struck by how much Regis truly loved his employees, how each and every one of them was family to him. 

“So how many pools have you all had, anyway?” she asked him, licking some icing off her fork. 

Regis chuckled. “I think that’s all of them… so far. Just give this crew a little more time, or wait until we hire someone new!”

Triss went to load the photos she had taken onto Tissaia’s laptop while they finished their cake, then Tissaia tucked it into her bag to take it home with her. 

Geralt approached them with a small smile, which was rare for him, unless he was looking at Jaskier. “Sorry about the scare, boss. I didn’t want to upset you. But Triss heard you were out and about, so we didn’t feel too bad about dragging you in here for an Eskel cake.” 

Regis shook Geralt’s hand. “It was very kind of you all. We are touched by your efforts.” He looked over at Tissaia. “But, it is our day off, after all, and I think it’s time we headed home.” 

She smiled back. _Yes, let’s go home, Regis._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a day off,” Regis said, as they took off their shoes. “I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.”

Tissaia could definitely believe that, since it seemed work was all she did these days as well. “Well, what do you do when you get home from work?” she asked, setting down her laptop bag next to the couch.

Regis gave her a sheepish smile, and ran a hand through his hair. “I… work. Or I plan new things for the restaurants, events and such.”

Tissaia laughed. “No, I meant, what do you do for _fun,_ Regis?”

“I… Sometimes I read, when I have the time.”

“Well, dig out a book, we’ll have fun today.” She smiled brightly at him. Regis was such a hardworking, giving person. He deserved to enjoy some downtime, too. 

He grabbed a thick book from the bookshelf by the dining room table, and walked over to the couch, stopping next to her. “And what are _you_ going to do for fun, Ms. de Vries?” he asked, the hint of a playful smirk on his face. 

“I… was actually going to work on the schedule for next week,” she admitted, sitting down on the couch, and pulling the laptop from her bag.

Regis seated himself beside her. He was definitely smirking. “So… I am to enjoy myself, whilst you continue to work? In front of me, no less?” He drummed his fingers disapprovingly on the cover of the book in his lap. 

Tissaia turned red. “I’ll be quick, I promise! I just need to get at least a rough draft out, so everyone has time to complain about it and tell me what days they were expecting to leave early without actually requesting them, and I can get the real thing done before the week actually starts,” she explained.

“I see,” he said. “Well, I suppose I will allow it, if that's the case. But you deserve to enjoy a day off, too, my darling.”

Tissaia nodded, and opened the laptop. The power light flashed, so she grabbed the cord out of the bag. “Where's the closest outlet?” she asked, holding up the end of the cord.

Regis took it from her, and reached behind his side of the couch. It didn’t stretch far enough to reach where she sat with the computer. He looked from the cord, to her face, and smiled. “I suppose you’ll just have to sit closer and allow me to help you, if you must work.”

_What a terrible tragedy._

She scooted closer, and Regis handed her the cord, curling his arm around her waist in the process. Tissaia turned on the computer and got to work on the schedule, trying to be quick, as she had promised. She pulled up the spreadsheets from the last three weeks to compare days off, and pulled the document with the time-off requests. Regis offered a few suggestions, and Tissaia made notes to keep them in mind for future scheduling. She clicked ‘save’ and emailed out the draft, then looked up at him. “What did you have in mind for fun?”

"I believe you left a bookmark in _Treasure Island,_ after the holiday party," Regis said thoughtfully. "I could light a fire, and we could read together, if you'd like?"

“That sounds absolutely wonderful,” Tissaia said, closing the laptop. “I know it’s early, but I might change back into those pajama pants. I had a little too much of that delicious cake for jeans right now.”

He took the laptop from her, and set it on the side table next to him. “However you’ll be most comfortable, darling.” Regis stood, and offered her a hand up.

He went to get the fire started, and Tissaia headed for the guest bedroom. She slipped into Regis’ soft, flannel pajama pants, then debated for a minute about leaving the sweater on. She decided it would probably be too warm if they were having a fire. If Regis’ previous comments were any indication, it seemed he wanted to be _close,_ and Tissaia felt like she would be cosy enough. She instead went with one of the long-sleeved shirts that he had packed for her. It was a dark grey, and had a wider cut that hung over her shoulders. It didn’t leave her bra straps visible, so she figured it would be fine, and headed back out to the living room.

Regis was crouched in front of the fireplace, getting the fire going. Tissaia smiled. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day. She found her book on the shelf where she had left it after the Christmas party, and sat back down on the couch to wait. Regis lit the fire, and turned to her.

“I think perhaps I might also change,” he said, standing up. “It’s just the two of us for the rest of the day, after all.”

 _Just the two of us._ Tissaia’s heart skipped a beat, and she inwardly scolded herself, as he disappeared down the hallway. _That doesn’t mean anything. He just wants to be comfortable, too._ She tried very hard not to think about the image of Regis in his suspenders that was engraved on her mind.

A few minutes later, Regis re-emerged from his room, wearing a black t-shirt, and his green plaid pajama pants from earlier that morning. He took his previous seat on the couch beside Tissaia, wrapping his arm around her again, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. It certainly felt that way to her, anyway. Despite everything going on, and not knowing how long it would last, Tissaia was happy. The casual way that Regis showed her such intimate affection brought a joy to her heart that seemed to erase years of loneliness.

She tucked her feet up onto the couch beside her and leaned into him, disappearing into the pirate adventure in her book. The moment was perfect. The room was filled with the sound and smell of the crackling fire, and every so often, the turning of pages. Regis’ fingertips gently traced the seam of her shirt, and the goosebumps that spread across her skin at his touch added to the drama in the story she was reading.

After what seemed like only minutes, Tissaia glanced up to see the fire dying. She looked at the clock, and her eyes widened. “Is it really 7:00 already?” 

Regis looked up. “It would seem that way,” he mused, turning to her. “Lucky for us, we’ve no dinner rush to tend to. I don’t suppose you’re hungry at all, are you?”

“Only a little... I could go for something small?” 

“Hmm, I’ve just the thing in mind. No, no, you stay right where you are, darling,” Regis said quickly when Tissaia began to get up. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen. 

It wasn’t quite the same without Regis to lean against, so she pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and made herself comfortable again. She finished a few more pages of her book, listening to Regis putter around the kitchen. He reappeared a few minutes later, carrying a tray that held a delicious-looking assortment of crackers, cheese, cured meats, nuts, and some fruit. Her eyes widened a bit. 

He saw her expression and chuckled. “I might have gone a little overboard. I do love a nice charcuterie board.” 

He gently placed the tray on the coffee table. “May I also interest you in some wine?” 

Tissaia smiled. “That sounds wonderful, thank you!”

He darted back into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. 

“This all looks so tasty! But where should I begin?” she asked, looking at the artful sections of food on the tray. Regis had quite the eye for presentation, it seemed.

“Well, if I may make a suggestion,” Regis stacked a slice of cheese on a small cracker, and held it out to her. “This is a soft dill havarti.”

“Mmm, it’s delicious,” she said, once she had eaten the proffered bite. “What other suggestions do you have?”

He gave her a tour of the cheeses and meats, making suggestions for pairings and pointing out his favorites. Then he paused for a moment and smiled a little wistfully. “Dettlaff hated to cook, so when it was his turn to make dinner, this is usually what we ate.” 

They made a fairly respectable dent in the food, considering how much they had already eaten that day. Tissaia insisted on clearing the leftovers away while Regis put his feet up, then she comfortably slipped back under his arm and settled back into her book. 

Regis had stoked the fire, and she quickly found herself lost in the pages of her book again, with a belly full of wine and food. The time ticked away and the warmth of the fire made her feel sleepy. An inadvertent yawn slipped from her mouth. 

Regis chuckled softly. “My sentiments exactly. It’s been a lovely day off, but I think it may be time to retire for the evening.” 

Tissaia sat up, and yawned again, stretching her arms upward. At the same time, Regis shifted slightly on the couch next to her to get up. She lost her balance, but finding she couldn’t put her hand down right on Regis’ lap, she tipped over. She was forced to catch herself on the arm of the couch with her elbow. “Ooof!” Her face turned red as she realized she was laying across his lap.

He looked down at her, clearly amused. “I _had_ intended to go to bed, but I suppose if you’d rather I stay?” he teased.

Tissaia didn’t think she could turn redder. She pushed herself back up, dropping her legs from the couch. “No, I’m sorry, I-”

“There’s no need to apologize, darling.” Regis gave her a squeeze, and pressed a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, then stood and made his way over to the fireplace to dampen the fire.

Tissaia froze. _Did he just?_ She lightly brushed her shoulder with her fingertips, and watched him pushing around the coals with the fire poker. “Regis?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you remember earlier, when you asked me to tell you if you ever made me uncomfortable?” she started. Regis turned back to her, looking mortified.

“I… yes. Have I?” His tone clearly advertised his concern.

“What? No!” she said quickly, noticing the relief on his face. “I… I just want to know that… that you would tell me… if I ever do something that makes you uncomfortable.”

Regis knelt in front of her. His height made his face level with hers, for once. “Tissaia, if I were ever uncomfortable with anything you do, you have my word that I would make it known to you.” He regarded her silently for a moment. “I enjoy intimacy,” he said finally, “so long as I overstep no boundaries. Showing affection, and having it be well-received makes me happy. I haven’t been able to comfortably be affectionate with anyone since… well, since Dettlaff passed away.”

Regis paused, and ran a hand through his hair. “I... apologize, if I’ve been talking about Dettlaff too much. I’ve not had much occasion to do so in the last ten years, since he’s been gone, and I… I fear I may be a bit overwhelming.”

“No, not at all,” Tissaia said, shaking her head earnestly. “Please, go ahead. He sounds lovely and I’m happy to hear about him.” 

“Thank you, that… means so much to me. You are a true friend.” 

“You too, Regis.” She smiled back at him. _Friends._ Yes, Regis was her friend…. Who she was maybe falling for. Just a little. 

Regis stood up and offered her his hand. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her cheek gently. “Will you be all right tonight? Sleeping alone?” 

Tissaia blushed, remembering waking up tangled in his arms and legs that morning. He was so kind, but he probably wanted his own space after being with her all day. “Oh… yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you.” 

“Well, if you should need anything… I’m right across the hall.”

_Oh, I could never forget._

“Good night, Regis.”


	8. Gaunter O’Dimm, P.I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving more bad news, it seems nothing is going right for Tissaia, but perhaps circumstances will shift in her favor when Vesemir receives a call from a mysterious stranger who knows more about her situation than any outsider should...

The next morning, Tissaia had gotten up before Regis and was brewing the last of the Sleeping Beauty roast when her phone rang. It was the detective looking into her break-and-enter. Not only was there no evidence found at the scene, but also Stregobor had a rock-solid alibi, and the harassing text messages were from a burner phone, untraceable. They expected as much, but it was still a tough pill for Tissaia to swallow. 

She swept her palm over the cool countertops, brushing imaginary crumbs onto the floor as he spoke, then thanked him for his time and ended the call. She took a steadying breath, then barely even had time to take a sip of her coffee when her phone rang again. This time, it was Vesemir. 

“Tissaia,” he greeted her solemnly. “How are you today?”

“Good morning, Vesemir. I’m doing as well as can be expected, I suppose. How are you?” 

“I’m fine, thank you. I’ve just had a look at the police report and I’m afraid it’s what we expected.” 

Tissaia sighed. “Yes, I actually just got off the phone with the detective.”

“Mmm,” Vesemir rumbled, sounding exactly like Geralt. “Please know that we still have a solid case against him, and there are other angles to pursue. Don’t feel discouraged. And I actually have some good news. I spoke with your landlord - bit of a prick though, isn’t he? - and your rental insurance will cover the cost of the window. It will be a few days before they are able to get someone in to replace it though.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear at least. Thank you for phoning.” 

“I’ll keep you updated as best I can. In the meantime, I hope Regis is taking good care of you?” 

She felt a warmth spreading through her chest as she smiled softly. “Yes, of course. He always does.” 

She hung up with Vesemir, and, figuring she might as well get the rest of the bad news over with, called the garage that had picked up her car. While it was ringing, she perched on the edge of the couch, and set her coffee down on the side table. Given the way her previous phone calls had gone, she wasn’t expecting any good news. Her fears were well-founded. The mechanic said her transmission was completely shot. The price he quoted her to repair it would cost more than the car was even worth. 

“Can I think it over and call you back?” she asked, watching Regis pour himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Sure, but if the car is here past 24 hours without service, we have a daily $50 parking fee.”

Tissaia hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands, feeling the tears start to well up in her eyes. She felt a squeeze on her shoulder, and Regis seated himself beside her.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I… Everything that could go wrong…. has,” she said miserably, rubbing her temples. “First the police called to say there’s no evidence, and Stregobor has an alibi, then Vesemir called to say the same thing, plus my apartment won’t be ready for days. And just now, I called the garage, and apparently my car is done for, too. I don’t know how much more I can take today, honestly.”

“That’s… quite a lot to bear, all at once,” Regis said softly. He set down his mug on the coffee table, and turned to her. “Are you all right?” 

She shook her head and once again, her defensive walls were crumbling when faced with Regis’ compassion. “I’ve now lost my apartment and my car and I’m here, imposing on you for a place to stay, and a ride to and from work…” she choked back a sob. “And… possibly putting you in danger, as well, I mean… who knows how- how far he’ll go?”

“You aren’t imposing-”

Tissaia interrupted him. “I  _ am, _ ” she cried. The tears she had tried to hold back poured down her face. “You’re so nice, and I don’t want you to put yourself out for me. I don’t want to bring you down with my constant breakdowns, and my problems, and-”

“Tissaia.” Her name fell from his lips as a gentle, yet firm command. “Look at me.”

She hadn’t noticed him move from beside her, but when Tissaia opened her eyes and looked up, Regis knelt in front of her. He offered her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.

“Listen to me very carefully, darling,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I know this has put you in a difficult position, one that is very hard on you. But I need you to understand that you've imposed no hardship on me. Yes, I drive you to work, but it is the same work that I drive myself to every day. I  _ enjoy  _ having you stay with me, in my home. It’s very pleasant to have your company, to have someone to talk to, before I go to bed, or when I have coffee in the morning.”

He paused, gazing at her with some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t identify. “I'm glad to comfort you, as much as I am able to do so, as much as you need. You’ve been hurt, and have been hurting for quite some time. With hurt comes tears, and the occasional breakdown, yes. I'm happy to help you dry as many tears as I can.”

Regis took Tissaia’s face in his hands, and used his thumbs to wipe away the new tears that had fallen from her eyes. “There is only one thing I ask of you, in return.”

“Wh-what is it?” Tissaia asked with a sniffle. The kindness in his eyes was almost too much to look at.

“I ask that you shed no tears for me,” he said, smiling at her. “I understand it’s easy to imagine you are burdening me, but that is not the case. You’ve enough tormenting you, and I will not allow myself to be on that list.”

He gently kissed her forehead, and brought his hands down around her back, pulling her into a tight embrace. Tissaia rested her head on his shoulder, allowing herself to relax and be held. 

“I am not afraid of your ex-husband,” he said, running his hand through her hair. “I know I cannot reasonably expect you not to worry, after everything he’s done. But I  _ can _ assure you that if he should attempt the same with me, it will be his downfall, not mine.”

After a long moment, he pulled back slightly to look at her. “Are you uncomfortable, staying here with me?” he asked, the concern evident on his face.

Tissaia looked at him, startled. “What? No, I… I like staying with you. It’s… nice, not being alone, like you said. I just… I don’t like making you feel like you have to take care of me, that’s all.”

“Do you dislike being cared for?”

“No, I-” Tissaia paused, and took a breath. “It's nice. I just… I feel guilty. Like I should be doing something.”

“Perhaps I can assuage your guilt by telling you that it pleases me to care for others. I see it as a privilege, and ask that you allow me to continue doing so. You are letting me indulge my need to feel like I am doing something.” He smiled softly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “In fact, I was going to suggest you stay here even longer, perhaps until this whole mess is sorted out.” 

Tissaia looked up at him, startled. 

Regis held up a hand before she could speak. “There’s no need to decide just yet. It’s still a few days before your apartment is even ready for you. But I would feel much better with you safe in my house, knowing that Stregobor is currently free to do as he pleases.” He sat back on his heels. “Now, I suppose we’d better have a bite to eat and get ready for work. I thought we might stop at your apartment on the way so you can grab a few more things?” 

Tissaia nodded and allowed Regis to pull her to her feet. She was too emotionally exhausted and, now that he mentioned it, too hungry to argue. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they got to her apartment, Tissaia couldn’t bear to look at the smashed mugs on her way past the kitchen. She ducked into her bedroom to change and pack her suitcase. It felt somewhat reassuring to be dressed for work again. Her A-line skirt and sharp blouse felt like a protective outer shell, and she was glad to have it back on. 

She pulled her suitcase down the hall and found Regis crouching in the kitchen, sweeping up the last few pieces of the broken cups. He looked up at her with a sad smile. “I have some good news?” he offered, and nodded over at the counter. 

Tissaia turned to look and saw four of her treasured mugs sitting on the counter. It was the two from her movie night with Regis, plus a gnarled brown gnome-face mug, and one with truly terrifying clowns painted on it. She gasped happily. “How did he miss those?” 

“They were in the dishwasher,” Regis smiled as he stood with the dustpan. “Let’s take them with us, shall we?” 

Tissaia wrapped them up carefully in her suitcase while Regis swept up the remaining dust. He brushed it into the garbage can and froze as he straightened up, looking at the window above the sink. 

“Tissaia... was that there before?” he asked uneasily. 

She followed his gaze and gasped when she saw the window. “BITCH” was written across the glass in large angry letters in red lipstick. The tube of lipstick was smashed on the windowsill. 

“I… I don’t think so. I think we would have noticed? And no one else mentioned it.” 

Regis took a few pictures on his phone, his lips pressed in a grim line. “I’ll get these to the police and Vesemir right away. I think we can both agree that it isn’t safe for you to come back here alone for the foreseeable future.”

Tissaia nodded weakly, still staring at the window.

“Do you need to pack more things?” 

She looked back at him. “I… I probably should, yes… if that’s all right.”

“Pack whatever you need, darling. I can help, if you’d like.”

Tissaia felt hollow as she loaded up her other suitcase with any other belongings she could possibly need, while Regis texted the photos and talked on the phone with the detective again. 

It was a quiet car ride to work; Tissaia was lost in her thoughts, and Regis seemed focused on driving. 

Being back in the controlled chaos of the restaurant was a relief, with Lambert’s sharp laughter and Eskel’s gentle smiles. Triss complimented her skirt and Jaskier regaled her with a story about an excruciating dinner he had just had with his parents and Geralt. She helped out front seating guests when things got busy and managed to somehow… almost… forget about Stregobor. 

A while later, she and Regis were in the office looking over payroll, when Triss stuck her head in.

“Regis? Someone’s here with some coffee for you?” 

“Oh, Annarietta… I had forgotten she was stopping by today. Thank you, Triss. You can send her back here.” 

Moments later, Annarietta appeared in the office doorway, Triss still in tow. 

“Good morning, you two,” Annarietta smiled kindly at Regis and Tissaia. Regis stood up to shake her hand. “I hope everything worked out alright with the oven fire? The kitchen looks okay...” 

Regis assured her everyone was fine, and explained how it was all a ruse to throw them a small surprise party. Annarietta chuckled with them, her laugh sweet and musical.

“Well, here’s your coffee!” She placed a big paper bag decorated to look like an enchanted forest on the desk. 

“Oh, thank you so much. Wow, even your bags are beautiful,” Tissaia said admiringly. “We ran out of Sleeping Beauty roast just this morning! You know, I was thinking...” she turned to Regis. “What if we started serving Annarietta’s coffee here?”

Regis’ eyes widened. “What a wonderful idea! I’m surprised the thought never occurred to me. I do love supporting local businesses whenever I can. What do you think, Annarietta?” 

Annarietta looked thrilled. “I would love that! Absolutely! I actually have a few more deliveries to make right now, but perhaps we could talk about this on the phone later?” 

“Of course. Thank you for dropping this off today. It was so kind of you.” 

“It was my pleasure. We’ll talk soon!” Annarietta turned to go and nearly ran into Triss who was still lingering in the doorway. “Oh! Excuse me.” 

“Oh, no, excuse  _ me. _ Sorry, I was just going to ask Regis… something.” Triss looked hard at Regis. 

Regis blinked for a moment and Tissaia nudged him gently with her shoe under the desk. “Oh! Of course. Where are my manners? Triss, this is my old friend, Annarietta. She and her sister own Brew of a Thousand Fables. Annarietta, this is Triss, one of our hostesses and also a dear friend.” 

Triss flashed Annarietta a dimpled smile and took her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“You as well…” They shook hands. “Have you worked here long?” 

“Yes, I’ve been here almost since it opened. Regis is just the best boss, I’ll never leave.” 

“He’s pretty great,” Annarietta nodded. 

They were still holding hands and looking at each other, and Tissaia could detect a faint pink flush to Triss’ cheeks. 

“Well….” Triss cleared her throat and finally let go. “I’ll have to come by your shop sometime.” 

“Yes, please do,” Annarietta smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Regis, Tissaia, it was nice to see you again. And Triss. It was very nice to meet you.”

“You too. But, um, I’ll walk you out?” 

“Okay.” Annarietta waved, looking a little flushed herself, and left with Triss.

Regis looked at Tissaia. “Were they…?”

“Yup, they sure were,” Tissaia smiled. “I’d say that problem is thoroughly sorted.” 

Her suspicion was confirmed a few minutes later when Triss slipped back in. “So… um, she was nice.” She casually fiddled with a stack of papers on a shelf. “Do you know… is she… single?” 

Regis gave Tissaia a knowing smile. “Very much so.” 

Triss was fully blushing now. “I’m just gonna… go work.” She scurried off. 

Tissaia gave Regis a sly smile. He looked both relieved and amused. 

“Perhaps....” he said slowly, the grin spreading across his face as he looked over to her. “Perhaps we’d better start another pool.”

She laughed, and was starting to answer him, when her phone rang, startling her. It was Vesemir so she answered right away.

“Vesemir, I’m with Regis. You’re on speaker.”

“How are you two holding up?” he greeted them. “I talked to the detective and they’re going to go back and sweep your place again, Tissaia. Maybe Stregobor’s thug tripped up the second time and the police will find something.”

“I doubt it,” Tissaia mumbled under her breath. Regis squeezed her hand. 

“Anyway, the reason for my call was actually to let you know about a very… interesting phone call I just received.” 

“Interesting how?” Tissaia frowned, tugging a wrinkle out of her skirt.

“Interesting in that a man called me, out of nowhere, with more knowledge of your case than you provided to me.”

“What do you mean?” Regis asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. “Tissaia held nothing back when we spoke.”

“And I believe you,” Vesemir said calmly. “The man who contacted me is a private investigator, hired by Stregobor Kovirian to gather information about Tissaia, and later, you as well. He provided details you couldn’t have known about what you told me.”

Tissaia looked at Regis. “He… hired an investigator?” she asked weakly, sinking back into her chair.

“Well, that explains how he knew where you worked,” Regis mused. “As well as where you lived.”

“Anyway, he wants to meet with you. I insisted I be present, of course-”

“Why?” Tissaia interrupted. “So he can just ask me personal questions directly, instead of spying on me?”

“Darling, perhaps we could-” Regis said softly, but she cut him off.

“No! Stregobor’s hurt me, and people I care about. I don’t want to meet with any of his hired crones,” she said firmly.

“I understand your anger,” Vesemir said gently, “but he wanted me to express that his main purpose in meeting you was to apologize for the part he played in your ex-husband’s actions against you. He’s on our side, Tissaia. He will be turning evidence against Stregobor in court… evidence that will likely lead to your ex going to prison for a very long time.” He paused for a moment.

“Vesemir, is there any way this could be any sort of trick?” Regis asked, looked intently at the phone.

“I highly doubt it. He said he plans on bringing evidence by my office later today, and gave me his contact information to reach out to him, if you both were interested in meeting with him.”

Regis looked at Tissaia. “What do you think?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vesemir’s firm occupied two floors in one of the tallest buildings in town. The light-coloured wooden furniture and neutral fabrics gave it a feel that was both modern and comfortable. The floor-to-ceiling windows in Vesemir’s office filled the room with a warm, natural light, and provided a rather extraordinary view of the shimmering city stretching out before them, and the snow-capped mountains to the north. 

Tissaia barely saw the mountains, however. Her gaze swept over Toussaint, wondering where Stregobor was hiding and what he would do next. 

She jumped when the door opened and Vesemir’s assistant brought in a tray of coffee and set it on the side table. 

“Thank you, Marla,” Vesemir inclined his head at her. “Please bring our guest in when he arrives.” 

Marla nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Tissaia took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm her nerves. She was afraid of Stregobor, and by extension, the man who had worked for him, gathering information about her. She wondered how much of her life he had been privy to since she left Aretuza. Tissaia was torn from her thoughts by Regis taking her hand.

“I imagine we may be here for quite some time,” he said, gently pulling her over to the small sofa near the corner where the windows met. “Perhaps we could make ourselves a little more comfortable. I’ll pour us some coffee, shall I?” He smiled at her, and even through the anxiety that gripped her like an iron vice, Tissaia couldn’t help but feel just a little soothed.

She nodded gratefully at his suggestion, and sank onto the soft cushions, smoothing her sweaty palms over her knees. Regis handed her the coffee, and seated himself beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. The warmth of his touch gave her strength, and Tissaia willed herself to unclench her jaw and relax. The only sound in the room was the clinking of their cups, when the door clicked open again. 

“Vesemir? Mr. O’Dimm is here,” came Marla’s voice. 

Tissaia turned and felt a jolt of electricity when she met the eyes of the man coming in the door. 

He was about average height, taller than Tissaia, but considerably shorter than Regis. He wore a burnt orange sweater with dark jeans that tucked into black boots at his mid-calf, and had black hair that had grown in just enough to leave a shadow on his shaved head. His most striking feature was his dark eyes. They sat deeply in his face, giving them a shadowed, almost secretive look, as though he could see through her. It was mesmerizing, and more than a little unnerving, as he stopped in front of the armchair across from Tissaia, and set down the leather satchel he carried. He shook Vesemir’s hand.

“Mr. Rivia, how fortunate we were able to meet on such short notice! I hope I didn’t disrupt your schedule too badly.” The man had a silky, even-toned voice, tinged with the vague hint of an accent that Tissaia couldn’t identify.

“Call me Vesemir, please,” the attorney said warmly, giving him a firm handshake. “And it’s no disruption at all! I’m so glad you contacted me, and I know we will all be thankful for the evidence you’ll be bringing forward against one Mr. Kovirian, who has been troubling my client for some time now.”

The man scoffed, furrowing his brows as his hand dropped back to his side. “Stregobor… that man is a snake. There are few who make me uneasy, and he has managed to do so.”

He turned to the couch where Regis and Tissaia sat. “Please allow me to introduce myself. Gaunter O’Dimm, private eye, at your service.” 

He gave a slight bow, and offered his hand to Tissaia first. She set down her teacup on the side table, and took Gaunter’s hand, giving it a (probably weak) handshake. He bent lower, and brought her hand to his lips before letting it go, and Tissaia felt Regis’ hand tighten around her shoulder.

_ Was he… jealous?  _ “Tissaia de Vries,” she mumbled, unable to hold his gaze for long.

“I need to beg your forgiveness, my dear,” Gaunter said, gazing at her. “When your ex-husband solicited my services, he told me a very  _ different _ story of the situation I was to be observing, than the truth I now know.” 

He turned slightly, offering his hand to Regis, who shook it firmly. 

“And you, sir,” he continued. “I’m afraid my involvement has put you in his sights as well, and for that, I’m deeply sorry.” Gaunter nodded his head at Regis. 

“Regis Terzieff-Godefroy,” he said tightly. “I’m glad you’ve seen the error of your ways.”

Gaunter eyed Regis a moment but apparently thought better of replying, and helped himself to a cup of coffee instead. As the tense silence stretched on, he seated himself in the chair across from Tissaia, crossing one leg over the other.

Tissaia noticed that Marla was frozen in place, eyes locked on Gaunter’s confident frame now leaning back in his chair. 

“That will be all for now, Marla.” Vesemir told his assistant, giving her a meaningful look. “....Marla?” 

She jumped. “Yes?” she asked dazedly, finally managing to tear her eyes away. 

Tissaia didn’t fail to notice Gaunter looked at Marla with a half smile. 

“Don’t forget, we still need someone on the phones, dear,” Vesemir said gently, gesturing toward the open door. Tissaia could hear the quiet beeping of the phone from just past the door.

“Oh! Yes, I’m terribly sorry. Let me know if you need anything.” Marla turned to leave, and Tissaia saw her steal one last glance at Gaunter. 

Vesemir watched her go, a faintly bewildered expression on his face, until she finally left, closing the door softly behind her. 

“Well. Mr. O’Dimm,” Vesemir started. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” 

Gaunter took a sip of his coffee, and began speaking. 

Tissaia decided Gaunter had missed his calling as a radio personality, his voice rich and oddly compelling. It would have been soothing if she wasn’t nearly shaking with dread. 

“Stregobor contacted me in November with the story of his crazy wife, who had fled Aretuza after dragging out their divorce, taking stolen cash and possessions with her. He hired me to find Tissaia and find out where she lived and worked.”

Regis sniffed indignantly and Gaunter’s eyes slid over to him. “Pretty standard work for me so far, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy. Half my contracts are messy divorces.” He took another sip. “I only found you due to a rather incredible stroke of luck in January. I have a friend who runs a group online that scans license plates for a hobby, and I send him plates of people I’m looking for on the off-chance someone in the group comes across them… and he did, in the parking lot of Corvo Bianco, very fortunately for me. So then I started tracking you.” 

Tissaia felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She shivered, her coffee forgotten, as she imagined all the times Gaunter might have been watching her. She struggled to draw a full breath. Regis pulled her in closer to his side and rubbed her arm. 

Gaunter noticed. “You seemed normal to me, no red flags. Stregobor wanted pictures, and more information. He asked who your friends were, if you were dating anyone. I assumed he wanted to know if you were cheating on him to sway the divorce court in his favor. It made sense to investigate, so I did. I saw you go out for dinner together a few times, and let him know as much. He thought there might be something there, and asked me to look into it, and get some information on you as well.” He gestured to Regis, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“I charge by the hour, so doing a bit more research was no issue for me. I didn’t find anything I thought he’d be interested in, just that you run a few restaurants in the city, and had no criminal record. I talked to a few people, and they all said you’re an upstanding guy. I always look for a spouse, because clients pay more when there’s drama, for some reason.”

Regis stiffened, and his hand found Tissaia’s.

“I didn’t find anything, just a dead end and a previous partner.”

“How did you find that?” Regis asked. His fingers curled between Tissaia’s, and she gave his hand a soft squeeze. 

“You were in a tattoo magazine, several years ago. I followed the lead to a little shop called  _ Beauclair Abstractions _ , and there was a picture on the wall. The manager told me about-”

“And you told Stregobor this?” Regis’ voice sounded hollow, and Tissaia felt his hand tighten just a little around her shoulder.

Gaunter shook his head. “Just showed him the photo, and said you weren’t married. For me, that wrapped up the investigation. I didn’t find anything, and from what I could make out, nothing shady was going on. I gave Stregobor my findings, and he wasn’t happy, to say the least. He went off the deep end, accused me of not doing my job, and refused to pay what he owed me. I warned him that it was in his best interest to pay me, but he told me to go fuck myself.” He paused, and turned to Tissaia. “Pardon my language, his words, not mine.”

She nodded, and Gaunter continued. “I did a bit of research on Stregobor after that, and everything I uncovered confirmed my suspicion that he hadn’t hired me to help him get his divorce finalized, like he had originally said. I found out he’s been the one dragging it out for five years after you filed, pushing you around for his own sick amusement.”

He paused, and refilled his coffee cup. “He’d used me to help him stalk you, and after everything I found out about him from previous business partners, ex-friends, and other people he’s harassed… it didn’t sit right, and I dug a little deeper to find out what he was up to.”

He sat back in his chair, and glanced up at Tissaia. She held Regis’ hand tighter as Gaunter continued.

“He’s basically a mobster. His construction business is a front for money laundering. Bribes, fraud, you name it. And as it turns out, Stregobor uses the same two or three goons as muscle for most of his jobs, and they use the same crowd of underlings who all drink at the same bar on Friday nights. It was only a matter of buying one of them a few drinks before he mentioned a job he was doing in Toussaint. So I kept an eye on him, and three nights ago, I followed him and another one of Stregobor’s regulars to your place, where I saw them break in.” 

“You saw them?” Regis demanded. “And you let it happen? You didn’t go to the police? What if Tissaia had been home?” 

Gaunter looked at Regis carefully. “Tissaia’s car wasn’t there, and the light was off in her window. And these men were likely armed. Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy, I’ve learned a few things about Mr. Kovirian these past two months. And among them is the fact that he's a man who deserves to go down hard. I have pictures of the thugs who broke in, and audio of the one in the bar. I also have a friend in the police department here who ‘accidentally’ slipped me Vesemir’s card when he heard I was interested in the break in, so I thought the best chance to build a case against Stregobor would be to consolidate our forces. I intend to get some solid evidence that he is involved, something that he can’t just pin on one of his goons.”

Gaunter paused, and his expression softened as he returned his gaze to Tissaia. “I feel terrible knowing my work has exposed you to him, Ms. de Vries, and I will do whatever I can to make amends. I know my uneasiness about him is nothing compared to yours, but I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until Stregobor is behind bars.”

Tissaia’s world was collapsing around her. She imagined Gaunter telling Stregobor all about Corvo and Regis… pictured Stregobor smirking to himself as he sent thugs into her apartment to smash her mugs. He was a monster, and she found it hard now to even remember the time she fell in love with the dashing, charming businessman who had all of Aretuza in the palm of his hand. She thought she might throw up. 

It took her a moment to notice the slight changes in Regis’ demeanor, as he sat beside her. While he maintained a polite expression, Tissaia could see the fire in his eyes; his jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white on his cup. Once again, she felt awful for drawing him into this mess. 

“And there is one more thing,” Gaunter added, draining the last of his coffee. “I don’t think he’s done yet.” 

Tissaia’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean...” Gaunter set down his coffee cup and raised his eyes to meet Tissaia’s. 

She felt a chill down her spine. 

“...he’s obsessed with you. He won’t rest until he’s destroyed you.” 


	9. What Happens in Cintra...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still reeling from the new information about Stregobor, Tissaia receives a bit of a break when she leaves town for the week to attend a restaurant expo with Regis and Geralt. Sharing a hotel room with Regis seems like the perfect getaway from her stress, but keeping up the ruse of being in love without real emotions getting involved doesn’t prove to be any easier in Cintra...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From LovelyRita: Thank you SO MUCH for all your amazing comments! Having loyal readers who leave such insanely sweet comments week after week is just, like, one of the best feelings in the world. So many of you mentioned how much you love soft, comforting Regis, and I wanted you all to know that that is allllll Gryphonheart. ♥‿♥ (I’m sure you will also like the other side of Regis that Gryphonheart wrote in this chapter😏)
> 
> And another thank you to our lovely beta and friend Blaire Seton. ♥♥♥

They got into the car in silence, Tissaia’s head spinning with the implications of what Gaunter had told them. Stregobor had always seemed well connected for the owner of a construction company. He was on a first name basis with every politician in town. Tissaia had begun to suspect the last few years of their marriage that perhaps there were palms being greased to procure certain contracts, but… the mob? She felt like an idiot for having no idea, and was even more terrified than before.

“Do you think we’re safe?” she finally blurted, unable to keep her worry to herself. 

Regis glanced at her, then reached over and squeezed her hand. “So far he’s stuck to skulking in the shadows. As long as we stay around people, stay together, I can’t imagine he’ll be so bold as to actually try to physically harm us. And hopefully once Vesemir turns Gaunter’s evidence over to the police, it won’t take long for Stregobor to be off the streets. However…” he paused to change lanes, “it will be a bit of a relief to get out of town next week.” 

Tissaia looked at him sharply. “Out of town? You’re leaving?” 

Regis frowned. “Yes, did I not….” He stopped at a red light and looked at the confused expression on her face. “Oh, my dear. In all this madness I don’t think I even mentioned it.” 

“Mentioned what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The International Foodservice & Restaurant Show of Cintra was one of the biggest industry expos in the continent, and Regis and Geralt went every year, eager to keep up with the latest trends and technology in the business.

Regis and Tissaia were packing to leave Tuesday morning when Tissaia’s phone rang again. Her stomach knotted up with anxiety when she saw Vesemir was calling. And it was more bad news. 

“The police tried to bring the two men who broke into your apartment for questioning but they were nowhere to be found. There’s no record of them ever having worked for Stregobor and no one seems to know where they are or even who they are.” Vesemir sounded pained to have to report this. 

“So everything Gaunter told us was just… completely useless? We’re nowhere?” Tissaia heard her voice sharp and rising but couldn’t seem to help it. Regis slid his arm around her and squeezed her hip.

“This doesn’t mean there’s no hope,” Vesemir said gently. “Those two might still turn up. And Gaunter is still keeping an eye on Stregobor for us. He’s bound to make a mistake eventually if he keeps this up. In the meantime, stay together, lock your doors, and… maybe invest in a security system, Regis.” 

Tissaia finished packing in a daze, now feeling especially anxious to be out of the city. Stregobor couldn’t know where they were headed, since Gaunter was no longer feeding him information, and Tissaia herself had just found out they were leaving. On a whim she pulled out the red dress she wore on her first date ( _ not a date, _ she reminded herself) with Regis and added it to the top of the pile. “Just in case,” she whispered. 

Geralt arrived seven minutes before their scheduled departure time, not including the eight minutes it took for him to detach Jaskier from his face and climb out of his car. He approached Regis’ Volvo looking a little flushed and disheveled, and deposited his one, tiny bag in the trunk. Seeing the looks on their faces, he avoided eye contact and mumbled, “I’ll sit in the back.” 

“Mmhmm.” Tissaia couldn’t help but grin a tiny bit at him as he folded his large frame into the backseat. 

The drive passed by pleasantly enough. Regis gave Tissaia his phone to find them some music, and she chose one of his favourite smooth jazz channels to play in the background while they chatted about the vendors Regis was eager to connect with. Geralt even offered more than the occasional grunt from the backseat when they talked about the new wood-fired oven he had his sights on.

They picked up dinner to-go from Geralt’s favourite hole-in-the-wall burger stand as they headed into Cintra, and pulled into their hotel just as stars began to dot the deep blue sky. Their hotel was a new-ish building on the nicer side of town, just a short walk away from the convention center that hosted the expo. They wheeled their suitcases into the lobby and Tissaia found her eyelids drooping, looking forward to getting to bed.

“So that will be one room for Mr. Rivia,” the clerk said, passing a key over to Geralt. “And one for Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy and Ms. de Vries.” Tissaia felt a thrill course through her veins.  _ Of course. The engaged couple shares a room. Thank the gods Geralt came!  _

When Tissaia stepped into their room she found herself in a living room suite. There was a grey sofa, with a coffee table that had been spread with several glossy flyers and pamphlets. Off to the side there was a full kitchenette, with a long countertop that ended as a table with chairs. Most importantly, there was a coffee maker. Tissaia made a mental note to check if there was coffee in one of the cabinets. She wheeled her suitcase through a narrow hallway between a closet and the bathroom, which looked rather enormous by hotel standards, and into the bedroom. She was feeling excited at the prospect of sharing a bed with Regis for their stay, until she peered into the bedroom.

There were two beds. 

Her heart fell.  _ Of course there are two beds. Regis has no reason to share with me,  _ she realized sadly. Outwardly, she put on a smile and turned to Regis, who had followed her down the hallway. “Is all this space just for you and me?”

Regis chuckled, setting their shared suitcase on the luggage stand. He sat down on the bed closest to the window, and stretched. “Geralt’s room has no suite attached, so I imagine he’ll be joining us for dining or conversation.” 

He didn’t mention the two beds, so neither did Tissaia. Instead, she slipped into the bathroom to change for bed. All of Regis’ pajama pants were plaid flannel in various colors, and tonight, Tissaia had opted for a red and black pattern. True, she had picked up all of her own pajamas from her apartment, but she had just… kept on wearing Regis’. He hadn’t said anything about it yet. She pulled on a grey t-shirt, and went back to the bedroom, tucking her bra into the suitcase.

Regis was reclining on his bed, looking at his phone. He laughed, and Tissaia looked at him questioningly. “The staff are going to have fun while we’re away,” he said, setting his phone on the nightstand between their beds.

“Oh?”

“Mmm. Yennefer is managing both restaurants for the weekend, and she just sent her plan, outlining the deep cleaning she expects to be finished by Friday.” He looked up, and Tissaia saw the twinkle in his eye. “We will undoubtedly receive several messages asking when we’ll be back.”

Tissaia smiled. “Well, at least they’ll have a reason to miss us,” she quipped, pulling back the covers. She plugged in her phone on the nightstand, and crawled into bed, bundling herself up in the comforter. The sheets were crisp, and the bed was soft, but it still wasn’t her bed, or rather, the bed she slept in at Regis’ house. She yawned, and pulled the blanket just a little closer.

“My sentiments, as well,” Regis said, letting out a yawn himself. He slid under the covers, and reached over to turn off the lamp.

Tissaia could just see his outline in the dark. She pulled one of the pillows down to hold in front of her. It felt better, being able to squeeze something. “Regis?”

“Hmmm?”

“What do you suppose… do you think Stregobor… do you think he knows where you live?”  _ Where we live, _ she added in her thoughts.

Regis was silent for a moment. “Based on everything that Gaunter told us,” he said softly, “I would imagine so, by now.”

Tissaia crushed the pillow tightly against her, wishing she could crush her anxiety the same way. “What if… he breaks in there, too?” She was unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark a little, and she saw Regis reach his hand out towards her. She pulled her hand out from under the covers, and met his in the space between their beds. Regis gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“My darling, everything of value in my home is insured, should anything… happen, while we’re away.” He ran his thumb across the back of her hand soothingly, as if to punctuate his words. “As for the only thing that cannot be replaced, I’ve taken care to bring her with me.”

His gentle words and touch triggered an ache in Tissaia’s heart that she couldn’t explain.  _ How is it possible to feel so… cared for, and yet still so alone? _ She felt the tears coming to her eyes, and thanked the heavens that Regis wouldn’t see them in the dark. She wished she could just lay there and enjoy holding his hand. Despite her best efforts to keep her tears unnoticed, Tissaia sniffled. 

Regis laced his fingers between hers, and he squeezed her hand again. “I’ll ask Lambert and Eskel to keep an eye on things, shall I? And we can look into security system options when we get home. In the meantime, I’ll let Geralt know a little bit about your situation, if that’s okay with you?” She nodded as he ran his thumb across the inside of her wrist. “But we won’t let him dictate the shape of our lives. We’ll be all right, Tissaia.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tissaia woke to the faint smell of coffee brewing. She cracked open her eyes, and looked over to see that Regis’ bed was empty, and his pajamas lay neatly folded on the blanket. Sunlight trickled into the room from between the drawn curtains; it was clear that Regis hadn’t wanted to wake her.

She pulled back the bedding, and sat up, stretching when her feet hit the floor. As she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, Tissaia could hear Geralt and Regis talking in the other room. She smiled.  _ It’s nice to have other people around in the morning,  _ she decided. She was about to head into the living room, when she heard Geralt’s voice clearly.

“Fuck. That guy sounds like a real piece of work.” 

“Indeed he is. We aren’t expecting anything to happen while we’re here, but I thought it best you were aware, just in case.” 

There was a pause while she imagined Geralt nodding. But then his next question surprised her. 

“Are you going to visit Madeline while we’re in town?

“I had planned to go tomorrow afternoon, if you had no objections,” Regis replied. There was some emotion in his voice that she couldn’t place.

_ Madeline? _

Geralt hummed, then paused. “Tissaia can stay with me, if you need to go alone.”

Tissaia’s heart dropped. She had no right to the jealousy that suddenly ached in her veins. Regis wasn’t really hers… but her heart hurt all the same.

“I think... I’ll be all right, this time. I appreciate your offer, though. You’re a good friend, Geralt.” He sounded hesitant, like there was something he wasn’t saying, and his tone was still tinged with something she couldn’t identify.  _ What was it? _

Tissaia took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door a little louder than necessary, pasting a smile on her face, as she made her way past the couch where Geralt and Regis sat, to the kitchen. “Good morning!”

Regis stood when he saw her, and smiled. “Good morning,” he said, coming over to join her by the counter. “Geralt and I were just discussing plans for the trip. I hope we didn’t wake you, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, and poured a cup of coffee for her, refilling his own.

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “Oh! Thank you,” she added, accepting the cream he had pulled from the fridge.

With her coffee in hand, Tissaia followed Regis back to the couch. He sat close beside her, draping his arm around her as though it simply belonged there, and she couldn’t help but smile, despite her anxious thoughts.

“Well, let’s discuss our itinerary for the day, shall we? Between the three of us, we should be able to cover a lot of ground!” 

They poured over the updated expo program, highlighting and making notes as they went. Tissaia had imagined walking hand in hand with Regis, sampling artisanal cheeses and watching cooking demonstrations, thoughts that evaporated quickly as she remembered she was there to  _ work _ . The first morning alone, Regis asked her to meet with a sales rep for a new line of industrial cookware, attend a panel on sourcing the best grass-fed beef, and watch a demonstration on cleaning products. And it seemed both Regis and Geralt were going to somehow be fitting in twice as much. 

Once they checked in at registration, Regis took Tissaia’s hand and leaned in to speak quietly to her. “Stay in the convention hall. Maybe strike up a conversation and find someone to sit with? Text me if anything seems strange or anyone makes you uncomfortable.” 

“Are we sure she should be alone?” Geralt frowned, shuffling closer. 

Tissaia nodded. Being in the brightly lit hall surrounded by hundreds of people, Stregobor suddenly seemed so far away. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need a baby-sitter.” She gave Geralt a brave smile and leaned forward to peck Regis on the cheek. “See you both at lunch.” 

She was sitting in the cookware demonstration room, waiting for it to start when her phone buzzed in her purse. It was Regis.

_ How are the pots and pans?  _ 😊

Tissaia smiled. He was thinking of her.

_ The demonstration hasn’t started yet. Looks like the presenter is stuck in traffic.  _ 😖  _ I’ve gotten at least 10 more grey hairs waiting for him  _ 😂😂😂

She looked around the room. Still no sign of the presenter. She looked back at her phone, to see that Regis had sent her a picture of him looking down at his phone camera, grinning slightly, with a lock of his silvery hair hanging around his face.

_ I think I may have you beat on that front, Darling. _

She stifled a giggle, glancing around. No one was sitting right next to her, so she looked back at the picture.  _ It’s unfair how handsome he is, _ she thought, saving the picture to her phone. She snapped a picture of herself to send back to him.

_ You may have me on the grey, but I think I take the gold medal for wrinkled old face with bags under the eyes, Emiel. _

Tissaia couldn’t help but smile as she hit “send.” This was definitely helping the wait go by faster. She just hoped she wasn’t distracting Regis from his event. A few moments passed, and no reply came.  _ He must have gotten busy, _ she thought. She was about to set her phone back in her purse, when it buzzed again.

_ How bold of you to assume I would allow anyone to talk about my fiancé that way, Miss. _ 😉

Tissaia blushed.  _ Is he… flirting?  _ Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when the presenter burst into the room and began speaking. She set her phone down, and pulled out her notebook.

She made it through the rest of the demonstration, and got an informational packet with a business card from the cookware representative, then went on to the panel. She sent Regis a picture of the beautiful grass-fed beef hamburger on homemade brioche that the presenter was sampling.

_ This is actually really delicious, we might have to try it out at Corvo. _

It didn’t take long for Regis to respond.

_ My darling, you are no longer allowed to text me food pictures before lunch… unless you have enough to share, of course. _

They met at noon for a quick bite to eat, to briefly compare notes and finalize plans for the afternoon, before they headed back off into the crowd. The texting continued through the afternoon, and Tissaia found it a welcome distraction from the rather dry session on reservation software. The one they already used wasn’t perfect, but this one seemed needlessly complicated and rather user-unfriendly. 

Regis was a bit… flirtier via text, than he was in person, and Tissaia had given up on the useless panel in favor of enjoying his use of emojis. They had gotten into a game of asking each other questions, in a ‘getting to know one another’ sort of way, and it was endearing, learning things about Regis that she wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. 

_ What’s your favorite kind of flower? _ 🌻 She added a sunflower for fun, and hit “send.”

_ I’ve always loved lily of the valleys. Or is it lilies of the valley? _ 🤔  _ What about you? _

Tissaia had to think about it for a minute.  _ I love daffodils. They’re so pretty and bright. _

By the end of the day, Tissaia’s feet were aching and her bag was weighed down with an endless collection of promotional material. She found Regis and Geralt waiting at their appointed meeting place in the foyer of the main hall and she set her bag down with relief. 

Regis was deep in conversation with an older, bearded gentleman with dark, curly, greying hair and bright eyes who was speaking animatedly, hands gesturing broadly through the air. Regis’ gaze slid over to Tissaia as she approached, however, and his face lit up with a smile. 

“Darling,” he said, pulling her in for a rather unexpected kiss. It was brief and chaste, but Tissaia still felt the thrill all the way down to her toes. 

Regis turned to face the other man who had paused, a kind smile on his face. “Mousesack, this is my fiancé, Tissaia. She manages one of my restaurants. Tissaia, this is Mousesack, the rep for Druid Kitchens. He was just telling me about the work they’ve been doing with Smart Kitchens. It’s utterly fascinating.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Tissaia said, still tingling from the kiss. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” the salesman replied, shaking her hand firmly. “I look forward to working together on your renovations!”

“I’ll just finish up with Mousesack here,” Regis patted her hand. “He has a short demo he’d love to give me and I’m going to have a look at some of their pricing. Why don’t you and Geralt go grab us a table at our hotel restaurant and I’ll join you in about twenty minutes?” 

Tissaia nodded, and reluctantly hefted her bag back onto her shoulder. She corralled Geralt from where he stood hunched against the wall furiously texting, and the two of them trudged the few blocks back to the hotel. 

Tissaia figured they should probably wait for Regis before beginning to truly debrief for the day. It was easy to walk in silence because the noise from the traffic made conversation difficult anyway, but once they were seated in a relative quiet of the restaurant, chit-chatting with Geralt was… challenging. 

“I had no idea the expo would involve so much walking. My feet are sore, that’s for sure,” she tried, before taking a sip of water. 

Geralt appeared to already be lost in the menu. “Hmm. Maybe you should wear more sensible shoes tomorrow,” he murmured, without even looking up. 

“Oh,” she said, flustered. “Yes, probably.” 

Silence settled over their table as she glanced at the door, hoping to see Regis on his way in. Not yet. She began to peruse her menu. Geralt was now frowning at his. 

“Hmm, interesting selection here,” she offered. 

“Looks like they can’t decide what kind of restaurant they actually are,” Geralt answered, looking personally offended. “I mean, I could order fish and chips, or a poke bowl.” He sniffed.

Tissaia nodded. Clearly the menu was a poor topic. “So…” she checked the door. “How are things going with Jaskier?” 

Geralt finally looked up at her and frowned. “‘Going with Jaskier’?” 

Tissaia blinked at him. “Yes… I mean… are things… good with Jaskier?” 

“What things?” 

Tissaia felt a hysterical giggle rising up in her throat but she pushed it back down and found herself frowning to match Geralt’s expression. “I just meant…” she floundered.  _ Gods, Regis, please hurry up. _ “Is everything going well with Jaskier? And your relationship. With him.”  _ Wow. _

Geralt looked back at his menu. “I don’t normally discuss my relationships with anyone.” 

Tissaia briefly squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Yes, of course not. I... I’m sorry for prying.” How could she be so bad at conversation?

But then Geralt shrugged. “It’s okay. Things are… very good.” If Tissaia didn’t know better she’d swear there was a hint of a smile on his face. 

“That’s great.” She took a relieved sip of her water. 

Geralt unexpectedly set his menu down and squinted at her. “And how are… wedding plans going?” 

_ Wedding plans. _ Tissaia nearly choked on her next sip.  _ Of course wedding plans!  _ She couldn't believe this hadn't occurred to her yet… and she also couldn't believe that Geralt Rivia of all people was the first one to bring up the subject. 

“We haven’t thought about them too much yet…” she stammered, then felt a flood of relief when she looked up to see Regis making his way to their table. 

“My dearest,” he said, as if seeing her was the best thing to happen to him that day. He kissed her forehead and took his seat next to her. Tissaia felt her heart squeeze. After all the flirty texting and the kisses and the ‘darling’ and ‘dearest’... did she dare allow a tiny part of herself to hope that maybe this wasn’t entirely fake?

“Did you get everything finished up with Mousesack?” she forced out, not allowing her brain to go any further down the ‘maybe’ path just now. 

“Oh, yes, it was quite satisfactory. He’s going to check into a few things for me and we’ll connect again tomorrow.” 

With Regis there it was like a dam broke, and the table was flooded with all they had seen and learned over the course of the day. They ordered wine and a smorgasbord of food to sample (no fish and chips or poke bowls though) and Tissaia forgot about her aching feet as dinner stretched on and another bottle of wine arrived. 

She was sharply reminded of the pain, however, the moment they stood to leave the restaurant, and by the time they got back to their hotel room, her feet and ankles were in agony. Tissaia kicked off her shoes with a sigh of relief, dumped her bag on the floor, and gratefully collapsed onto the sofa. Regis sat down beside her. He must have been just as thrilled to no longer be standing, because he flopped down a bit less gracefully than he normally would have. Geralt sat in the armchair next to the couch, pulling out his phone and typing rather intensely.

Tissaia felt her limbs turning to mush as she sank into the cushions. “I probably should have gone directly to bed. Now I’ll never be able to get up.” 

Regis smiled at her, and reached over to tuck a loose strand of hair that had slipped from her bun behind her ear. “The day was a bit long, wasn’t it? I hope I didn’t ask too much of you.”

Tissaia shook her head. “You didn’t, I just… definitely should have worn my flat shoes today, that’s all.” She glared at the offending pair of heels that lay by the door. “I don’t think my feet will be the same. Or my ankles, really.”

“You should put them up, darling. I can get you some ice-”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be alright,” she interrupted. She knew Regis was just as tired as she was, if not more so, and she didn’t want him to get up on her behalf.

He pursed his lips and gave her a long look. “Then I insist you at least elevate them. I can’t have you uncomfortable tomorrow over a pair of shoes, however lovely they may be.” 

Tissaia shrugged her shoulders in mock defeat. “Okay,” she conceded, bringing her feet up onto the couch. Regis laid her legs across his lap, and handed her a pillow.

“May I?” he asked, closing his fingers around her ankle. The pressure felt so nice, she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

“Of course… if you want to, that is,” she said, taking the pillow and squishing it behind her neck. She didn’t want to sound too eager, but the idea of any sort of massage sounded heavenly. 

Regis slowly took her foot in his hands, running his fingertips over the nylon of her pantyhose. He squeezed gently, his thumbs pressing deep into the arch, and this time she wasn’t able to prevent the soft moan that escaped her lips. 

A smile slowly spread across Regis’ face. “I hope that was a good reaction?” His eyes met hers, and there was a heat there that she wasn’t sure she had seen before. 

“Good,” she replied softly. She bit her lip, and looked away. It was too hard to keep eye contact while he was touching her so intimately, and making her feel…. things she hadn’t felt in years. 

His fingers continued to knead and massage, moving from her feet to her ankles, and Tissaia couldn’t help but squirm just a bit as she enjoyed the feeling of his hands slowly moving up her legs.

Geralt, bless him, was tapping away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to the sensual massage going on right next to him. He scoffed and shook his head. “That oven supplier finally got back to me. He says he wouldn’t have anything available until April. April!” 

Tissaia felt like her whole body was on fire, melting into the soft cushions. Regis’ hands were on her ankles, but she felt warmth pooling… elsewhere. Not that she expected anything to  _ happen…  _ but she wondered when Geralt was going to leave.

Neither she nor Regis managed to reply to Geralt, who continued shaking his head and grumbling about the oven. 

Tissaia had only used the oven at Corvo to bake a tin of cupcakes once, and it had seemed to work all right for her, but she assumed that as the head chef, Geralt probably knew a lot more about it than she did. She also didn’t want to get on his bad side for the trip, and was having a hard time paying attention to his complaints anyway. Regis had finished his wonderful massage of her ankles, and was nodding along to Geralt’s verbal abuse of kitchen equipment, while absent-mindedly stroking one of his hands up and down Tissaia’s calf, causing a constant stream of goosebumps from the touch. His other arm lay across her legs on his lap, and she could feel his fingertips on her thigh. It felt like he was very,  _ very _ delicately rubbing against her skin, but she knew she was probably imagining it.

“As… troubling as this is, I’m sure we can sort it out in the morning, Geralt,” Regis said with an air of finality. Apparently he was ready for Geralt to leave, too. 

Geralt shook his head, eyes back on his phone. “Look at this email now! How do they even stay in business?” He read them the entire email. Regis made appropriate sympathetic noises, but shot Tissaia a desperate look.

“Well, it sure is getting late…” she started, once Geralt had finished. 

“I don’t know… Maybe I don’t even need the wood-fired oven?” he mused, then he stood and stretched before shuffling down the hall to the washroom. 

They looked at each other wordlessly for a moment. 

“While I agree with most of Geralt’s complaints, I am positively aching to go to bed,” Regis sighed, running a hand through his hair. He slid her legs from his lap, and pushed himself to his feet, yawning as he stretched out his arms. “I must confess I haven’t actually been paying much attention for the last few rounds.”

“How do we get rid of him?” Tissaia asked, stifling a yawn herself.

“I have an idea, but…” His eyes met hers. “It would be…  _ incredibly _ forward of me.”

“If you think it will work, do it,” she urged him.  _ Be as forward as you’d like, _ she added in her thoughts.

Tissaia heard Geralt leave the bathroom, still arguing the merits of replacing the oven. She shot Regis a warning look. “Whatever it is, do it  _ now. _ ”

Without another word, Regis hauled her to her feet, then bent down, and his hands met the back of her thighs. In one fluid motion, he lifted her from the ground, and pressed her into the wall. Her pencil skirt slid up around her hips as Regis nestled himself between her legs, and Tissaia barely had time to register that her height was level with his, when his lips met hers rather passionately. Her hands made their way into his hair, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in the kiss.

“What I don’t understand, is how they give me such a long lead time - six weeks! I can rent a truck, and fucking  _ drive to their warehouse _ and pick it up in about three days. How the fuck is it going to be six to eight weeks to ship it?” Geralt had rounded the corner, and had apparently managed to ignore them on his way to the fridge. Tissaia heard Geralt crack open a beer. He was obviously in his own world.

She wrapped her legs tightly around Regis’ waist, holding him firmly against her. Tissaia was getting further and further from caring if Geralt was in the room. Her heart raced, and her breath quickened, as Regis’ right hand slowly moved up her thigh…

“I guess I can just take a weekend and-” Geralt cut himself off. He had apparently noticed them at last. 

Tissaia did not expect both of Regis’ hands to simultaneously find and firmly squeeze her ass. She tried and failed to stifle her instant reaction, which was to moan against his lips.

“Uh.” He froze. “I’ll just…see myself out. Night,” he grunted, and was gone. 

Tissaia faintly heard the hotel room door click shut. Regis’ thumbs gently tapped against her thighs, and she realized she was still holding him tightly to her face by his hair. She released her grip, blushing furiously, and he pulled back slightly. His face was flushed, his lips just a bit swollen from kissing her, and Tissaia had never seen anyone look hotter in her life. 

“I… I hope that wasn’t too much.” The breathless way he spoke made her heart flutter. He shifted his weight away from her a little bit, and she realized she had already forgotten what he had said. 

“What?”

“I hope I haven’t overstepped any boundaries,” Regis said softly, looking away for a moment.

Tissaia shook her head. She  _ really  _ liked being face-level with him. “That was…”  _ Amazing? Exhilarating? Not enough?  _ “That was fun.” She gave him a lopsided smile. _ We should do it again sometime. Like right now. _

“And quite effective. He left in such a hurry, he’s forgotten his shoes.” Regis looked back at Tissaia as he set her down gently and stepped away. He picked up Geralt’s shoes where they lay by the armchair and went to set them by the door. He straightened, clearing his throat. “Yes. Well. I think I might have a shower before I retire for the evening.” 

Tissaia leaned back against the wall, worried her legs might not support her. She was still reeling from the kiss. And Regis seemed... to not be affected at all. 

“Would you like to use the bathroom before I shower?” he asked her as he straightened some piles of papers on the counter. 

_ How did things go so quickly from the hottest kissing of my life to discussing who needs to use the bathroom?  _

She slowly shook her head. “No, I… I think I’ll be okay.” 

Regis breezed past her into the hall to the bedroom, and Tissaia watched him go, blinking. When she heard the bathroom door close, then the sound of the shower turning on, she shook herself and made her way into the bedroom, thoughts a jumble in her head. 

Tissaia peeled off her clothes and pulled on a t-shirt, and then suddenly sank onto the bed and put her head in her hands. 

_ It’s just for show, Tissaia. None of it is real. You knew that going into this. Snap out of it.  _

Foregoing the pajama pants, she crawled under the covers, and turned off the lamp. For the second night in a row, tears came to her eyes, but she had no intention of letting Regis see them this time. She wasn’t sure how she should be feeling, and definitely had no right to be upset that he wasn’t interested in her the same way. As she pulled a pillow up to her chest, she remembered the sad look on Annarietta’s face when she had seen them together. 

_ That’s me now, _ she thought bitterly, squeezing the pillow tighter. Tissaia didn’t know if the physical attention Regis gave her to maintain the show, and sometimes when they were alone, served to make things better or worse. She wiped the tears away, hearing the shower stop. She heard the bathroom door open, and Regis’ footsteps approached quietly. She shut her eyes.

“Tissaia, darling, are you awake?” he asked softly.

She said nothing, and tried to make her breathing sound like she was asleep. She heard Regis pull back the covers on his bed, then he stopped, and came over to her. She felt him brush aside her hair, then move away again.

She thought he was about to get into bed when she heard his faint whisper:

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, too. Don't hate us. ~Rita


	10. We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drowning in mixed feelings, Tissaia goes with Regis to meet someone who holds a special place in his life. They finally have a much-needed talk about their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening note from Gryphonheart:  
> This chapter was hard to write, for several reasons. There was a lot of emotion to convey, and sometimes putting things into words in a certain context is difficult. I appreciate your love for the story as we are telling it, and I know Rita does as well. Please be mindful of the content warning, and enjoy.

Tissaia dreamed she was in the crowded expo hall, looking for Regis. She wandered around for what felt like hours, before she finally caught a glimpse of him through the throng. She tried to push her way through the closely packed bodies, but by the time she got there, he had moved on. She could see him still, ahead of her, moving easily through the crowd while she struggled. She called to him, but he didn't seem to hear her. She pushed and pushed, dropping her bag, leaving it to be trampled underfoot. She was gasping for breath when she was finally within arm’s length, and she managed to reach out and just barely catch hold of his sleeve. 

“Regis!” she cried, ready to weep with relief. “I’ve got you!”

He turned to look at her, his face blank, eyes cold. “Do I know you?” 

Tissaia’s eyes snapped open in the dimly lit hotel room. She looked over at her clock and saw that it was 5:30 a.m.. Regis was still fast asleep. 

By the time Regis appeared in their kitchenette to pour his coffee, Tissaia had showered, dressed, and was elbow deep in Smart Kitchen specs at the table.

“Good morning,” she said crisply, determined to remain business-like. “You’re right, this does look incredible. Imagine the cooler telling you when you’re low on butter!”  _ Okay, that was too much, Tissaia. It’s just an appliance.  _

Regis sank gracefully into the chair next to hers, and she couldn’t help but notice the delicate way he held his cup. It seemed like such an odd thing to notice, but his long, slender fingers around the white ceramic were beautiful.

“Good morning,” he said softly, turning to her as he set his cup down on a coaster. He hadn’t combed his hair back, and it was endearingly tousled. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Oh, yes, thank you. I was so tired, I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.” It was a lie. She had laid there for hours, “ _ I’m sorry” _ echoing in her head. 

He smiled at her, perhaps a little sadly. “So did I.” If the shadows under his eyes were any indication, he wasn’t being truthful, either.

Tissaia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Maybe we can integrate some of these fixtures into the new restaurant? I know they’re a little pricey, but a lifetime warranty? I think it might-”

“Darling, I think we should talk about what happened-”

_ No, no, no, please no. This is where he says we shouldn’t be close anymore. _ Tissaia felt small and weak for being so afraid of Regis rejecting her, but with the looming threat of Stregobor, she couldn’t deal with any more painful feelings.

“-I just think that maybe it’s something we should look into, maybe check the cost margins, and see what-”

“Tissaia.” Regis’ hand closed around hers, and he gently pulled away the flyer she held. “I don’t mean to be rude, but… I need to talk to you about last night.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. With a sigh, Regis got up to let Geralt in. 

_ “That’s _ where I left my shoes,” he said as he came in. “Morning, Tissaia.” 

“Morning,” she mumbled, fastidiously avoiding Regis’ eyes as she shuffled some papers to make room for Geralt. They huddled over the program with their coffees, planning another full morning.

“And then in the afternoon…” Regis trailed off, and shared a meaningful glance with Geralt. 

_ Oh, that’s right. Madeline.  _ Tissaia remembered the conversation she had overheard the morning before, something she had forgotten about right around the time Regis had picked her up and pressed her against the wall. 

“I was hoping you might accompany me, Tissaia. I have someone I need to visit.” 

“Okay… ” Tissaia looked at him expectantly, but when he didn't volunteer more information, she didn’t press. He could tell her later. 

She was just settling into her chair at the beginning of her first session of the day on human resources when she saw a text from Regis come in.

_ Cat person or dog person?  _

She paused for a minute, not sure she could handle another day of flirty texting. But before she could decide if she should respond or not, the presenter loudly demanded that everyone jump to their feet and find a partner for an activity. She slid her phone into her bag and looked around with trepidation.  _ Anyone wanting an awkward partner who’s terrible at small talk? _ she wondered dryly. 

Ninety painful minutes later, she was finally allowed to flop back into her chair. She saw Regis had sent another text an hour later, when she hadn’t responded. 

_ Is everything alright?  _

_ Yes, sorry,  _ she replied. _ “Human resources” apparently meant “team building” and I’ve just spent an hour and a half in hell. Everything is fine.  _ She put her phone back into her purse without answering his first question, and gathered the rest of her belongings to head off to the next panel. 

They met for lunch again, and ate quickly. Geralt provided the gripping play-by-play on his emails with the oven supplier, while Regis nodded sympathetically and Tissaia picked at her salad. 

“Well, I’ll see you two when you get back,” Geralt said when they were done. “I’m going to talk to that grill sales guy we met yesterday. Maybe he knows some kind of workaround for that back burner that always takes a shit when Lambert’s cooking.” He shouldered his backpack and headed off toward the main hall with a wave.

When they climbed into Regis’ car, Tissaia looked over at him. “So… who are we visiting?” she asked finally.

He smiled at her briefly, before turning his eyes back to the road, as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Someone… very dear to me,” he said softly, pulling up to a traffic light. “I asked Geralt to stay behind, because we will be telling her the truth about our engagement.”

Tissaia said nothing, but looked out the window instead.  _ Fine. If he’s going to be vague and mysterious, I’m not begging for information. _ But the thought that Regis already had someone special in his life nagged at her the rest of the way. 

Fortunately, the drive was short. It only took about fifteen minutes before they pulled into the driveway of a blue ranch-style house. There was a small white car parked further up the driveway by the garage, and a blue painted decorative fence ran around the yard. 

Regis parked the car, and came around to Tissaia’s side to open her door. Her heart was pounding as he took her hand, and they headed down the garden brick path toward the house. When they stood on the porch, Regis ran a hand through his hair before knocking on the door.

After a moment, a beautiful redheaded young woman opened the door. She smiled brightly when she saw Regis, and she wrapped him in a hug. “Regis! How are you?” 

“Shani, it’s always a pleasure to see you, my dear,” Regis said, smiling back at her. “Things are going well. I was in town for the restaurant expo, and I was hoping to see Madeline. I had called to let her know I was coming…”

“Of course, she’s expecting you. Come on in.”

Shani ushered them inside, and immediately, Regis was engulfed in another hug by an elegant looking woman who appeared to be in her seventies. 

“Emiel! It’s so wonderful to see you, my lovely boy.” She kissed him on both cheeks, and held him at arm’s length, looking him up and down. “I see you’re still unreasonably tall.”

Regis laughed, and kissed her cheek. “Madeline, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He took Tissaia’s hand, and pulled her closer. “This is Tissaia de Vries. She manages Corvo Bianco with me.” 

He turned to Tissaia. “Darling, this is Madeline van der Eretain. She…” He cleared his throat. “Madeline is Dettlaff’s mother.”

Tissaia’s head was spinning. She immediately felt terrible about being jealous, and then suddenly nervous.  _ Madeline would be important to Regis. He was going to marry her son.  _ She smiled tentatively and put out her hand.

Madeline shook it, peering at Tissaia. She was about to say something, when Shani interrupted.

“I have to go to class, I’ll be back later tonight, Ms. Madeline! Nice to see you again, Regis!”

“All right, dear, good luck with that exam!” Madeline waved to Shani as she got into a blue car at the curb. She turned her attention to back Regis, and smiled slyly. “ _ Darling, _ is it? Perhaps you’d better sit down and tell me about that.”

Regis’ face flushed the tiniest bit. They slipped out of their shoes at the door, and followed Madeline into her cozy living room.

“Make yourselves comfortable on the sofa, and I’ll get the kettle going for tea.” Madeline disappeared into the kitchen.

“Shall we?” Regis gestured to the overstuffed red sofa under the window.

Tissaia sat down, and when Regis seated himself beside her, the sofa tipped her in towards him, causing her to struggle for balance momentarily. Regis slid his arm around her waist and held her upright against him while she pulled her legs up onto the sofa to balance her weight.

“I apologize,” he said softly, glancing over at her. “This sofa has always forced people to be... cozy with one another.” But he didn’t pull away. His arm draped around her, his hand resting lightly on her hip.

_ Did he do that on purpose? _ Tissaia wondered, as Madeline came back through the doorway. 

“So,” the older woman said, her lips turned upward into what could only be described as a mischievous grin. “When were you planning to tell me about your engagement?” She sat down in a green armchair across from them.

Tissaia blushed. She looked up at Regis, and saw that he was just as red as she was.

“Madeline, it’s… not what it seems,” Regis began, but she interrupted him.

“Emiel, I may be old, but I have eyes. Don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t recognize Lavinia’s ring on your lovely lady’s finger.” She gestured to Tissaia’s hand on the arm of the sofa.

“Yes, I…” Regis cleared his throat awkwardly, and started over. “There’s… something I… something that  _ we _ need to tell you, but it must stay between us.”

Tissaia’s stomach was in knots as Regis began telling Madeline about Stregobor, and her situation with her ex-husband. He must have sensed her tension, because his other hand found hers as he spoke, and he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze.

“What a loathsome cockroach of a person,” Madeline scowled, after Regis described their encounter in the parking lot. She turned to Tissaia. “You deserve much better, my dear, and I’m so glad you’ve found it. Emiel will treat you the way you  _ should _ be treated, I have no doubts. My boy is a gentleman.”

Tissaia gave her a small smile, and nodded.  _ She’s right, Regis  _ is _ a gentleman.... But it isn’t like that. _

Regis continued the story, explaining what he had told Stregobor, and how it had led to their current situation.

“What do you mean,  _ pretending _ to be engaged?” Madeline interrupted, frowning at him.

“It’s… just a ruse,” Tissaia said, hoping she didn’t sound as disappointed as she felt. “Emiel is so sweet and kind, and is doing this to protect me. I couldn’t be more grateful.”

Madeline looked at Regis. “The kettle’s boiling, dear. Would you possibly finish up the tea for me?”

“Of course.” Regis gave Tissaia another small squeeze, and stood, careful not to knock her over. He disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen.

“You may both say it’s nothing all you like,” Madeline said softly, turning to Tissaia. “But I see it in his eyes, the way he looks at you… the same way he looked at my son.” She smiled, and Tissaia could see the hint of sadness on her face.

“It’s not… we aren’t together, though,” Tissaia managed weakly. “He’s… my boss.”

Madeline laughed. “And despite that, you care for him as well. It’s as obvious as the nose on your face. Do you really think he would bring you to see me, if you weren’t special to him in some way?”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Tissaia fumbled.  _ That can’t be the case. He would’ve said. _

“There’s no need to say anything. I’m glad you found each other.” She paused, and looked at Tissaia thoughtfully. “It’s been ten years, nearly eleven now. I was beginning to lose hope that he would want to find someone. It changes a person, going through what he did.”

Before Tissaia could reply, Regis came through the doorway from the kitchen, carrying a tea tray set for three. A few minutes later, they were all sipping Earl Grey, and Madeline was telling them about the latest scandal in her book club. Madeline had chosen  _ The Song of Achilles _ as their next book and one of the members had called her up, sputtering, when he realized the main character was gay. They were laughing at her impression of him - “Achilles and Patroclus were just good friends!” she huffed - when Tissaia realized she quite liked Madeline. The older woman reminded her of Irene in a lot of ways. Kind and generous, but a force to be reckoned with under the right circumstances.

The afternoon stretched on pleasantly. As the conversation eventually began to slow, Regis looked at his watch. “It’s been so lovely to see you, Madeline. But I think it may be time for us to head back. We have another long day tomorrow.” 

“Indeed.” Madeline smiled at them. “Do come and visit me again, soon. Both of you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They got back into the car, the silence deafening once the doors were closed. Regis waited for Tissaia to speak first. 

“Thank you for bringing me to meet Madeline,” she said softly. “She’s a special lady.” 

Regis nodded, his lips tight. “Indeed she is.” He gripped the steering wheel but made no move to start the car. “I know she’s getting older, and I should visit more often. She was just as close to Dettlaff as I am… as I was, and she misses him just as much, but… I can’t. I’m not a very good adopted son, I’m afraid.”

Tissaia’s heart squeezed. “You’re doing the best you can, and I think Madeline understands that. She was concerned about  _ you _ being alone.”

Regis didn’t respond right away, instead letting out a breath and tapping his rings gently on the steering wheel. There were several emotions warring on his face as he glanced over at her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I... don’t really feel up to a full dining experience this evening. Perhaps you could order some takeout from that Chinese place near our hotel for us to pick up on the way?” He started the car and turned on his jazz playlist again, a little louder than normal. 

It seemed he wasn’t ready to talk about their visit any further, so Tissaia busied herself by searching for the name of the restaurant and placed an order for some lo mein and dumplings. A light drizzle started falling as they drove, and she leaned her head against the cool window of the glass, watching the buildings pass by in a grey blur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tissaia wasn’t sure what woke her up. It was still dark. She looked over to see that Regis’ bed was empty. She yawned, and looked at her phone. It was only 3 a.m. - definitely not time to get up yet. She slipped out of bed, and padded down the hall to the bathroom. When she got out, she noticed a dim light in the living room. She cautiously made her way closer, and was relieved to see it was only Regis’ phone. He was laying on the couch, and the faint glow of the phone illuminated his face in the dark. He looked… sad.

“Hey,” she whispered. He looked up at her, startled. “Are you okay?”

Regis nodded. “I just… I have trouble sleeping occasionally, that’s all.” He gave her a tired smile, but she noticed the line was missing.

“Would you like some company?” Tissaia offered. 

“I… wouldn’t want you to be tired throughout your day on my behalf.” He sounded miserable, but he hadn’t said  _ no _ , and he sat up, moving his legs to make room for her. 

“I don’t mind being tired,” Tissaia said firmly, as she seated herself beside him. “I’ll just have more coffee in the morning, that’s all.”

Regis gazed at her wordlessly for a moment, then looked away. “I need… to say something,” he said softly, twisting the rings on his hand with his thumb. “About last night. Or the night before last? I’m… not really sure what time it is at the moment.”

Tissaia swallowed the lump that was building in her throat. “Regis, we don’t have to…” she trailed off weakly as he looked back at her.

“Tissaia, I… I’m sorry for my actions. I was more forward than I had any right to be, and you’ve every right to be angry with me. I don’t know what came over me… what  _ possessed _ me, to touch you so… inappropriately, and in the company of someone else.”

_ He’s… ashamed, _ she realized. Tissaia mentally kicked herself for not seeing that sooner. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Regis kept going.

“Being close with you has been lovely… a very pleasant reminder of how sweet life can be. I can only hope that you’ve felt similarly. I can only imagine how difficult things must have been for you, and still continue to be.”

He slowly met her eyes again, and Tissaia noticed how strained his expression was. It was clear he had been stressed about this, and yet… there was something else there as well. She thought of how sad he had looked a moment ago, then her thoughts travelled to where they had gone that day, and the image of Regis and Dettlaff smiling together came unbidden to her mind. 

_ He’s still grieving for Dettlaff. And I’m still married… to a mobster, _ she thought sadly. She was pulled from her thoughts when Regis gently took her hand.

“I’ve taken advantage of my position, and your situation, my darling… and I’ve taken advantage of you. I only hope that you can forgive me.” He hung his head remorsefully. 

“You haven’t taken advantage of me,” Tissaia said firmly, squeezing his hand. “I promised I would tell you, if you ever made me uncomfortable.”

Regis looked at her carefully. “You’ve been… withdrawn. I had assumed you were upset with me.”

Tissaia sighed, and looked down at his hand around hers. “I’m not upset. I mean, I  _ was upset _ , but not really at  _ you _ , just more upset with the situation, if that makes sense.” 

“The situation?”

She nodded, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “I… I’m sorry if this is awkward, or too much information, but I haven’t been that...  _ intimate _ with anyone in years, and just dropping things after Geralt left…” Tissaia took a deep breath, and stole a glance at Regis before looking down at her lap again. There was still some emotion in his face that she couldn’t name. 

“It’s just... it’s a complicated situation, and it can get… confusing, at times. I’ve been so stressed, my emotions have been everywhere. With everything going on with Stregobor, I can’t be more grateful for your help, and your continued support of our… our arrangement.” She gestured to the ring on her finger. “I’m the one who should apologize, Emiel. I’ve been distant today, and without reason. I’m sorry.” 

Regis brushed his thumb across her fingers, and she shivered at the touch. “Forgive me, I… I hadn’t considered the effects of being so physical, and I’m afraid I got a bit… carried away, rather selfishly. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed the closeness, and I know it’s no excuse for my actions, but… intimacy, it seems, is an easy thing to fall back into with you.” 

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I like your affection. You make me feel… like I’m warming up, after being cold for a long time. And I never said anything about it, so there’s no need to apologize.”

“Perhaps not,” he said softly, as she met his gaze again. “But it may be time to establish a few defined boundaries for our relationship, my darling.”

Tissaia bit her lip and nodded, willing herself not to cry.  _ It’s for the best _ , she told herself firmly, but she was already mourning the loss of Regis’ touch. “Does that mean we can’t cuddle anymore?” The words flew from her lips before she could stop them, and she waited anxiously for him to respond. 

Regis smiled, and squeezed her hand. “I think that most of us feel the need to hold or be held, from time to time, and… I would still very much like to hug and to hold you, if you'll permit me.” 

Tissaia nearly sagged with relief. “Yes, please. I’d like that.” 

“Though in public, perhaps we should limit ourselves to hand-holding, and the odd forehead kiss if we need to sell the engagement.” His eyes met hers. “And leave it at that.” 

She nodded again. “That’s... probably best.” As much as Tissaia wanted...  _ more _ with Regis, she appreciated the clear boundaries. Now was not the time… for either of them, and she didn’t think she could handle the emotional whiplash of another passionate kiss.

Regis lifted up his arm in a wordless invitation, and she slid into his embrace, wanting nothing more than to curl up against his soft cotton t-shirt and never let go. 

He hugged her for a long, silent moment, and then murmured into her hair. “Thank you for coming with me today. Sometimes it can be…” But then he stopped. 

Tissaia tilted her head to look at him. “It’s okay to miss someone you love.”

Regis looked down. “I… it’s been ten years, and it should be easier to bear by now, but…. it’s difficult for me, visiting Madeline.” 

“That’s completely understandable. I imagine-”

“No, you don’t,” Regis interrupted softly. He leaned heavily on his elbow, resting his forehead on his fingertips as he looked down at his lap. “Dettlaff died in that house… in the first bedroom off the living room… in my arms.” His eyes met hers.

Tissaia found his other hand and squeezed it.  _ Madeline was right, _ she thought.  _ What a terrible thing for him to have gone through. _ “Do you want to talk about it? It’s okay if you aren’t ready.”

“His doctor was here in Cintra, and we had decided together that it would be most comfortable for him to... receive hospice care at his mother’s house.” Regis’ voice sounded distant, like he was far away in his head as he spoke. “It was a Monday evening. The first heavy snow of December was falling, and we could see it from the window.... It’s been ten years, and yet if I close my eyes, I can still see it.” 

He dropped his hand to his lap, and ran his thumb across the two silver rings. “Dettlaff wasn’t able to focus his eyes on small things.... towards the end, so I was reading to him. We were sitting together on the bed, and I was holding him, just as I’m holding you now. He… was looking out the window. He’d always liked the snow, and Christmastime.”

Tissaia’s mind drifted back to Regis looking out the snowy window the night of the Christmas party.  _ It was a Monday evening... _ She remembered the far-away look on his face that night, and remembered wondering what he was thinking, and now she knew.  _ He has the staff party on the first Monday in December… because he doesn’t want to be alone. _ It was heartbreaking to think about, and she knew it could only be worse for him.

Regis’ hand trembled, as he fiddled with his rings. “I thought… he’d fallen asleep,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long we… how long  _ I  _ sat there, and he was… gone…” He trailed off, gazing down at his hand.

Tissaia didn’t know what to say. Her heart ached for Regis. She slipped her arm behind his back, and hugged him silently.

“I haven’t... had it in me, to hold anyone close since then.”

“You can’t just force yourself to get over something like that,” she began softly, but he continued.

“It wasn’t until the snowstorm last Christmas, that I managed to overcome it ever so slightly. When you told me that you hadn’t been physically touched in years…” Regis’ fingers laced between hers on her waist. “It’s easier to do something, when it’s for someone else, even when it’s something I cannot do for myself, and… my darling, you don’t deserve to feel alone or uncared for.” 

“Neither do you, Emiel,” she whispered.

Regis’ eyes widened slightly, and he looked incredibly vulnerable. It was clear to see on his face what she’d known all along: he had been hurting alone for a long time. 

“I… I don’t know what to say…” he stammered, clearing his throat. “That’s very kind of you, I…” A tear slipped down his cheek. “I’m sorry, that was a lot to burden you with… I wouldn’t normally allow myself to be so… emotional,” he apologized, his eyes downcast. 

He looked  _ guilty _ , Tissaia realised. She brought her hand up to hold his face, and gently pulled his chin up. “Hey,” she whispered.

Regis slowly met her eyes, and Tissaia smiled. “How many times have you held me and let me cry?” she asked.

“A… few, I think, I’m not quite sure.”

She shook her head. “A  _ lot _ . And if it’s okay for me to need to be held, it’s definitely okay for you, too.” Regis was the most loving person she’d ever met, and it broke her heart to imagine that he felt he didn’t deserve to be cared for in the same way he cared for others. 

She leaned against his chest, and wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin. “It’s okay, Emiel. You can cry.” 

So he did.

They sat there for a while, until Regis grew quiet again, and Tissaia felt her eyelids getting heavy. 

“You should go back to bed, darling.” Regis’ words startled her awake. 

She smiled sadly into his shoulder. “I will if you do.”

“I…” Regis started, then stopped. 

“Yes?” She sat up to look at him. 

He looked like he was unsure how to proceed. “I wonder if we might... lie down together? I know this is on the heels of our discussion of boundaries, and I understand if you’d rather we didn’t.”

Tissaia remembered how Regis had comforted her in her bed after her nightmare, and how well they had both slept.  _ And cuddling is allowed _ . With a yawn, she nodded.

Regis got up, pulling her up with him, and they shuffled back down the hall to the bedroom. Tissaia crawled back into her bed, and felt the mattress shift under Regis’ weight as he sat down behind her.

“I’ve forgotten my phone,” he said softly. “I trust your alarm is set for the morning?”

“It is,” Tissaia confirmed.

“I know I… we both know how close I will likely be, when we wake.” His voice was tinged with a hint of embarrassment, and something she couldn’t quite place. “I would prefer to have your permission, to… to hold you that closely, my darling.”

“Regis, of course you have my permission.” She yawned again. “You always have my permission to hold me.” She froze, realizing what she had just said.  _ Please don’t let it be awkward now. _

The thought was a silent prayer, and it must have been answered, because Regis slid closer to her, until his body lay flush against hers. He lay his head behind hers on the pillow, and draped his arm around her waist, following her arm until he found her hand. He wrapped his hand around hers, gently running his fingertips across her knuckles, and tracing the outline of the ring she wore. Tissaia laced her fingers between his, and felt his cheek against the back of her head.

And they slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The final day of the expo passed by in another swirl of names and faces Tissaia was sure she wouldn’t remember, handshakes and business cards, glossy pamphlets and fridge magnets. It had been a welcome distraction from the reality of what was waiting back in Toussaint. 

She had woken that morning with Regis wrapped around her again, and it felt warm and safe. She knew that he cared for her, and she greatly appreciated the close friendship he offered her. He texted her throughout their sessions again, and she smiled to know he was thinking about her. 

When the expo drew to a close, there was some discussion about attending the cocktail mixer that night, but it had been a long, tiring three days, and they were all looking forward to getting back home. Geralt was especially eager to leave right away, and offered to drive if Regis was too tired. So into the car they piled, Tissaia curled up in the front seat, Regis stretched out in the back, Geralt brow furrowed and eyes intent on the road, and they drove. 

It was late at night when they arrived home, the sky black and moonless. Tissaia looked up at the dark, looming house, and a sense of dread washed over her at what they might find inside. 

Regis unlocked the door and flicked on the lights. She crept in behind him, holding her breath. But there was… nothing. Everything looked completely normal. In an unspoken agreement, they moved through the house, turning on lights and peering into rooms, only to find that nothing was out of place. 

They looked at each other in relief, and with no further discussion beyond “good night,” they headed off to their respective bedrooms. Tissaia had no energy to properly unpack, but when she unzipped the suitcase to pull out her toiletry kit, a flash of red caught her eye: her dress. She never got to wear it in Cintra. She tugged it out from under the rest of her clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles as best she could. She looked at it sadly for a moment, then slipped it back onto a hanger and hung it up carefully in the closet. 

With her teeth brushed and pajamas on, she climbed into bed. It felt safe to be back in Regis’ house, and Tissaia was comfortable with the boundaries they had laid out for their relationship, tenuous as they may be. She laid her head on her pillow, and she slept soundly.

The next day, Regis called about getting a security system installed, just in case, and the day after that Tissaia found another used Toyota, this one a slight step up from the last one that she had given up on. The day after that, Jaskier launched a formal complaint about the way Yennefer had made him scrub out the entire bar cooler before his Friday shift, and the week after that they had to have an awkward conversation with Eskel and Lambert about public displays of affection at work. And still there was no sign of Stregobor. 

Tissaia and Regis settled into their role of “engaged” couple in front of other people, and privately, they enjoyed one another’s company, establishing a nightly ritual of cuddling on the couch while they read. She was so grateful to have his affection and friendship, and any other feelings she may or may not have had about Regis were ignored. Mostly. 

February turned into March, and before they knew it, it was April. By the time May rolled around, Tissaia wondered if maybe Stregobor had forgotten about her, cut his losses and moved on. 

He hadn’t. 


	11. Celebrations and Possessive Implications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of waiting, Vesemir has news for Tissaia. Later, she and Regis celebrate with a houseguest, and things get a little... heated.

Tissaia sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea that was slowly getting cold. Regis was working late at the new restaurant again, finalizing the kitchen and dining room layouts, making decisions on an endless parade of tiny details. All that had to be sorted before fixtures and furniture could be brought in. Corvo was busier than ever, and Tissaia was managing it by herself now. But no matter how tired she was, she waited up for Regis every night. 

Ending their days on the couch together had become a desperately-needed respite for them both. They would either discuss the events of the day, or silently engage in separate activities while enjoying the comfortable, close embrace that they always seemed to slip into. Tissaia didn’t know how long she would be staying with Regis, but she’d be damned if she missed out on even one night.

Despite their talk about boundaries, and their unspoken agreement - they were not seeing each other romantically - Tissaia was beginning to notice a subtle shift in their interactions. They were constantly brushing against one another while cleaning or cooking. When they were out on errands, his hand would always find hers, regardless of who was watching. Try as she might to suppress them, the feelings Tissaia had pushed down were determinedly bubbling back to the surface.

She took a sip from her mug and looked at the clock.  _ Eleven o’clock already. _

Tissaia finally gave up on the cold tea and dumped it down the sink before padding to her bedroom to change into her pajamas. Once she was otherwise ready for bed, she made her way back to the living room and settled into the wingback chair by the couch. 

After considering for a moment, she pulled out her phone to text Regis.  _ Do you think you’ll be home soon? _

She hit “send” and settled into the chair, bringing her knees up to her chest. It had been such a long day, and Tissaia was exhausted. She’d slept horribly the previous night for no reason at all, and had felt the effects of it all day. She looked at her phone again and sighed - no response yet. Her eyelids were getting so heavy, and despite her best efforts to stay awake, she drifted off. 

Tissaia half-woke to the feeling of weightlessness, and Regis’ smell. She drowsily cracked open her eyes. Regis had lifted her into his arms, and was carrying her to bed. She smiled, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Welcome back,” she whispered.

He stopped for just a moment, and smiled down at her fondly. “Did you miss me?”

“Mmmm.” 

It was nice, being half-asleep in his arms. Regis set her down gently on her bed, and pulled the blankets up to tuck her in.

“Goodnight, darling.” He brushed her hair from her face, and Tissaia caught his hand.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled sleepily. “Stay with me.”

Regis was quiet, and Tissaia thought for a brief moment that he had left, but then felt his hand still in hers. 

The next thing she knew, it was morning, and her alarm was going off. Tissaia tried to roll over to grab her phone from the nightstand, but something was in the way - something warm, sturdy, and person-shaped. She opened her eyes just in time to see Regis’ arm wrap back around her. He had turned off her alarm, and was packing himself in closer to her.

“We have to get up,” she said, gently nudging his arm.

Regis made his disapproval known by pulling her in a bit tighter against his chest. “I’m tired,” came his muffled reply into her hair. “Let them fend for themselves for a while.”

Tissaia sighed. “I have to take inventory, and do the ordering today.” 

“The order cut-off isn’t until 3:00. I think you’ll have more than enough time, darling.” His other hand found hers under the pillows, and gave it a squeeze. “Believe me when I say your supervisor won’t mind in the slightest if you sleep in.”

Tissaia yawned, arching her back into Regis’ chest as she stretched a bit, then relaxed against him. “Okay,” she whispered, twining her fingers between his.

She let her eyelids drift shut again, softly running her thumb over Regis’ fingers. She didn’t think she was imagining the tension building between them again. They had so carefully set rules for the fake relationship, and had settled into a comfortable routine, but the comfort became ease, and the ease softened into enjoyment and friendship and trust and…. There was no way to avoid or deny it anymore: she had fallen in love with Regis somewhere along the way. 

She felt her heart speeding up at the thought, and forced herself to focus on the sound of Regis’ slow and steady breathing behind her. While it was clear he enjoyed their closeness, there was still no way of knowing if he was in a place to move forward with a relationship, and Tissaia didn’t want to press him into anything he wasn’t ready for. 

After another 30 minutes of dozing, she felt the day pulling at her. She gave Regis’ hand one final squeeze before rolling out of bed, ignoring his groans of protest. 

She showered and got dressed, then made her way to the kitchen to fix breakfast. It wasn't long before Regis joined her. 

“If you insist getting up so early after late nights, I might start insisting on laying down with you more often, Ms. de Vries,” he grumbled playfully, trailing his hand across her shoulder blades as he made his way to the cabinet to get a coffee cup.

She smiled. “If that was supposed to be a threat, you might try making it sound less appealing, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy.”

She looked at Regis out of the corner of her eye. He had opened his mouth to say something, but then apparently thought better of it, and instead smiled as he poured himself some coffee. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention, there was mail for you yesterday.” Tissaia cleared her throat and pointed at the counter where she’d left the mail when she got home last night. 

Regis set down his mug on the table beside Tissaia, and flipped through the stack, until he paused and held up a thick, cream-coloured envelope. “I’ve been wondering when this might arrive.” 

“What is it?” She watched him retrieve his letter opener from the drawer and slide it through the paper. 

His brows furrowed in concentration as he read the elegant script, then his face relaxed into a happy grin. “Olgierd and Iris’ wedding!” 

Iris was the head chef at Lavinia’s, and she had met Olgierd when he was brought on as the sous chef. The two of them had fallen in love so rapidly that no one had even had time to start a pool. 

Regis looked up abruptly from the invitation in his hands to glance at her. “My darling…”

Tissaia smiled. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of Regis referring to her that way. “Hmm?” She met his eyes over the rim of her coffee cup.

“What does your schedule look like on June 23rd?” 

“Hmm, I think I’m busy,” she teased, “but I can double check. What did you have in mind?” 

Regis’ eyes sparkled. “I thought perhaps you might do me the honour of accompanying me to their wedding?” 

_ Is he asking me to be… his date?  _ The thought made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll see if I can rearrange a few things,” she offered magnanimously.

“Mmm,” Regis’ lips quirked in amusement. “How kind.” 

Tissaia watched him, suddenly not being able to stand the thought of being apart from him again today. “Will you back out at the new place today?” Tissaia wondered. She’d barely seen Regis the whole week, and if she was being honest, she really missed having him around at work. 

“No, I was planning to spend the day with you… at Corvo, actually. I miss everyone. We could carpool, if you’d like.” 

Tissaia couldn’t help the wide grin that split her face. “That sounds wonderful.” 

“We’ll just need to make a stop along the way. Geralt texted me that he needs a particular brand of butter and cream to make the pastry for his Beef Wellington,” Regis explained, as he popped some bread into the toaster.

“Beef Wellington? Aren’t we an Italian restaurant?” 

Regis chuckled. “Apparently the college alumni board has requested it specially for their dinner on Thursday. He’s quite well known for it.”

“Well, I love Beef Wellington. Perhaps I can talk him into saving one for me.” 

“You can try…” Regis started then paused with a smile. “You might want to get Jaskier to ask.” Geralt and Jaskier were still going strong, and Regis had mentioned that he’d never seen Geralt so soft for anyone before, and he and Geralt had known each other for years.

Tissaia nodded. The ‘get Jaskier to ask him’ strategy had come in handy many times these past few months. One didn’t want to overuse it, though. “Maybe I will.”

When they got to work, Tissaia dropped off the shopping bag with Geralt, who gave a pleased grunt. She was making her way to the office, when she heard a sniffling sound coming from the lockers. She peeked her head around the corner and saw Triss, hastily wiping away a few tears. 

“Triss! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m fine! It’s not a big deal. It’s just… a pipe burst in my apartment last night while I was sleeping. My kitchen is totally destroyed, and the living room carpet. My water is shut off and… I’m just stressed about it.” 

“And reasonably so, in such terrible circumstances.” Regis had joined them, and he pulled Triss into a hug. “Do you need somewhere to stay?” 

Triss allowed him to hold her for a moment, then pulled away, wiping another tear. Tissaia handed her a tissue from her purse. 

“Um, I mean, I can stay at my parents’...” she closed her eyes and looked pained. “I’ll have to share a room with one of my sisters… they’re all still at home, it’s a full house. But yeah, I can stay there.” 

“Don’t they live all the way in the north end?” Tissaia asked. “It’ll take you an hour to get to work!” 

Triss shrugged. “It’s fine.” 

Regis shook his head. “Why don’t you come and stay with us? We would love to have you for as long as you need. The guest room is yours.” 

“Oh, Regis…” her eyes welled up again. “I couldn’t possibly impose like that.” 

“Nonsense. It’s settled.” He gave her a warm smile

She hugged Regis again and then Tissaia. “You guys are the best. I can’t thank you enough.” Triss gave her eyes another wipe and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She marched off to the dining room and Regis watched her go with a fond look on his face.

“So…” Tissaia said, giving him an awkward smile. “I guess… I’ll be sleeping in  _ your _ room for the foreseeable future?”

Regis looked startled. “My…?”

Tissaia found his fluster adorable. “Well, the guest room is now taken, and if we’re keeping up appearances, I don’t suppose your fiancé can sleep on the couch?” 

Regis put a hand to his mouth. “Oh dear. Tissaia... I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t think… shall I catch Triss, and make some excuse? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, darling.” 

Privately, Tissaia couldn’t be more pleased at the prospect of waking up in his arms every morning. With a laugh, she shook her head. “I’m only teasing, I’m not uncomfortable. We’ve already slept together, anyway.”

Regis’ eyes widened. “Why, Ms. de Vries,” he started, his lips curling into a teasing smile. “I feel as though I would remember something like that.”

Tissaia laughed. “You know what I meant!” She swatted his arm.

Regis grinned. “I suppose I do.” He fidgeted with his tie for a moment, then met her eyes again. “If you’re sure, then. We’d better leave a few minutes early, to move your things.”

Tissaia nodded. “Good thinking. ”

Regis went to wander around the restaurant and check in with the rest of the staff, while Tissaia settled into the office to sort through the week’s ever-growing stack of mail. 

The day flew by, as most days at work did. Tissaia felt a little thrill in her stomach every time she looked up and saw Regis, and she knew the rest of the staff was happy to see him as well. 

The happy buzz she felt, however, fizzled away when her phone rang. It was Vesemir. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tissaia looked up at the office building and sighed. Vesemir had asked if they could stop by because he had something he wanted to discuss with them in person. She couldn’t imagine why. There had been no news in weeks; no sign of Stregobor or his goons, and Gaunter had nothing to report… maybe Vesemir was going to say he no longer found her case worthwhile. 

When she settled into a chair in his office, she clutched at the arm rests, realizing her heart was racing. Regis sat in the chair next to hers, his knee bouncing. 

Vesemir leaned back in his chair, his face unreadable. “Thank you for coming in today,” he started. “Would you like some coffee?” 

Tissaia shook her head quickly. “No, thank you.” 

“Yes, well…” The corner of Vesemir’s mouth twitched. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come in today. I don’t normally keep clients waiting in suspense, but I have an update for you that I thought was better delivered in person.” He reached for an envelope on his desk and opened it carefully. “These documents arrived from Stregobor’s lawyer.” He slid a stack of papers out and placed them on the desk so Tissaia could see. 

She leaned forward in her seat, and reached out with a trembling hand to trace the words on the paper.  _ Articles of finalization, per the grand courts of the cities of Aretuza and Toussaint… _ Tissaia looked up sharply, blinking at Vesemir in confusion. “Is this…” If she thought her heart was racing before…

She heard a sharp intake of air from Regis next to her. 

“Congratulations, Tissaia.” Vesemir’s face finally split into a wide smile. “You’re finally divorced.” 

Tissaia pressed her hands to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. She looked over at Regis whose face was lit with a brilliant smile. They stood at the same time and she flung her arms around him, laughing and crying all at once.

“I can’t believe it,” she sniffled into his shoulder. “He actually… why now?” Wiping a tear from her cheek, Tissaia turned to look at Vesemir. “Did he say anything at all?” 

“Indeed he did. Mr. Kovirian was very insistent that this accompanied the documents.” Vesemir handed Tissaia an envelope. “His lawyer seemed very uncomfortable with the idea, but relayed it nonetheless.”

Tissaia took the envelope, noticing it was cut open at the top. She glanced up at Vesemir. “Have you already read it?”

He nodded. “I have. It seems odd, but I’ll leave you to make your own deductions about it.”

Tissaia pulled a sheet of cream-colored stationary from the envelope, shuddering at the scent of Stregobor’s cigar smoke that lingered on the paper.

_ My Dear Tissaia, _

_ What a pity, you seem to have forgotten the measure of man that I am. I’m sure that in time, you will come to regret your decision to go through with this as much as I do. After all, part of you will always belong to me. _

_ Warm Regards,  
Stregobor _

Tissaia sucked in a breath, the thudding of her heart now in her ears.  _ That miserable, manipulative, piece of-  _

Regis’ hand took hers, and she let him gently take the paper. 

“Go ahead, read it,” she fumed.

He glanced at her carefully for a moment, then looked down at the paper. He frowned, and looked back at her. “It’s a threat.”

Tissaia nodded. “He’d never let me have this so easily.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing she’d never gotten up that morning.  _ How nice it would have been, to just stay snuggled cozy together this morning, and not face Stregobor’s threats. _

“But what does he have of yours?” Regis looked honestly worried. 

Tissaia sighed irritably. “I’m sure he’ll find some way to bring it up, so you might as well know.” She was very aware that her face had turned a bright red in her embarrassment.

“I might as well know what, darling?”

“Stregobor is… the only person I’ve ever…  _ been with. _ ” Tissaia looked down at her shoes, wishing she could disappear. “It’s something he’s always taken a sick pride in, and... he’s used it as an excuse to claim it made me less desirable to anyone else.” A tear made its way down her face as she looked up at Regis again.

“How… distasteful.” Regis frowned, and Tissaia saw the briefest flash of anger on his face as he set down the letter on the desk. “As awful as he may be, don’t let him ruin this moment for you, Tissaia.” His eyes shone with the conviction of his words. “You’re free,” he added softly, bringing her hand to his lips.

Tissaia forced herself to smile, and tried to push thoughts of Stregobor from her mind. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. You deserve to celebrate being rid of him… legally, at least.” Regis smiled at her.

Vesemir, who had been awkwardly shuffling papers, cleared his throat. “Perhaps it might be best if you two.... continue with your current  _ arrangement, _ until I can make heads or tails of this threat, and we can drum up enough evidence to put him out of your lives a bit more permanently?”

Regis squeezed Tissaia’s hand. “That does seem like the best solution for now.”

She nodded, and was about to respond, when her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the screen. 

“It’s Triss… she’s leaving work.” They looked at each other, both mentally comparing the distance to Regis’ house from Corvo and Vesemir’s office. 

“We’d better go, if we’re to make it back first.” Regis put Tissaia’s thoughts into words. 

Vesemir slid the divorce papers and the letter back into the envelope, handing it to Tissaia. He came around the desk, and wrapped her in a bear hug. “I know this is a difficult process for you, dear. I’m glad I could help you win this small victory.”

“Thank you so much, Vesemir! I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.” She smiled at him, and waved as Regis pulled her out the door and toward the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She won’t be that far behind us!” Regis said breathlessly, as they darted into the house. Abandoning their shoes and coats by the door, they raced into the guest room.

They ran to her closet and began pulling clothes off the hangers. “Wait, what about the sheets?” Tissaia realized.

Regis pressed his lips together, looking like he was up for the challenge. “You take all of this,” he directed, dumping the clothing he had pulled out of the closet onto the pile in her arms, “and move your things out of the hall bathroom. I’ll take care of the sheets.” 

Tissaia ran to Regis’ room and tossed her clothes on the bed, then made a beeline for the bathroom. When she passed the guest room, she could see Regis stripping the sheets from the bed. 

“Where am I putting my toiletries?” she called to him.

“My ensuite bathroom,” he replied, sounding like he was struggling with the mattress.

A car door slammed outside, announcing Triss’ arrival.

“Regis! She’s here!” Tissaia squeaked, as she hustled into the bathroom. She grabbed her bottles and tubes and hairpins, juggling them awkwardly as she heard a knock at the front door. 

She dashed back to Regis’ room, passing him in the hall as he sprinted to the laundry room, sheets in hand, and she dropped her armful just inside the door of the master bathroom.  _ That’s a mess I’ll have to handle later, _ she thought, as she raced back towards the front door. 

She collided with Regis as he emerged from the laundry room, and they both toppled backward into the wall. His hands flew around her waist to keep her from falling, and for the briefest of moments, Tissaia was reminded of the last time they were up against a wall together… She caught her balance, and pulled back. They were both panting and laughing as Triss knocked again. 

When they got to the door, Regis straightened his collar and smoothed his hair back. “We did it!” he whispered conspiratorially, wrapping an arm around her as he reached for the doorknob.

He opened the door to reveal Triss smiling at them. Triss’ grin froze, then turned a little sly. Tissaia realized they were both still breathing heavily, and had the exact look of two people who had been interrupted... during an especially  _ intimate _ moment.

But instead of saying anything, Triss held up a bottle of wine. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here… And,” she held up her other hand, “Geralt packed up some food for us. No cooking tonight!” 

They ushered her inside and Regis escorted her to the guest room. “It... just needs some sheets still, I’ll just grab you some right now, shall I? Here, let me show you where the linen closet is in case you need anything.” He guided Triss down to the far end of the hallway. 

Tissaia quickly poked her head into the guest room and did a quick scan to make sure they hadn’t missed anything.  _ All clear. _

Triss appeared in the doorway with a stack of sheets. “Oh, no, don’t be silly, Regis. I can make my own bed! Why don’t you two go and see what deliciousness Geralt whipped up for us?” 

Tissaia helped Regis unpack and plate the food, her mouth watering at the heavenly smells that wafted from the takeout containers. Geralt had sent Caprese salad, stuffed shells, chicken parm, and mushroom risotto.

Triss breezed into the kitchen. “Mmm, this smells amazing! Geralt’s the best!” 

They attacked the food with relish, and when the bottle of wine disappeared rather quickly, Regis pulled a few bottles off his wine rack he’d been saving for a special occasion.    


“Tonight is special, is it not?” he asked Tissaia with a wink. She knew he meant the divorce, which was _ certainly _ cause for celebrating… but wondered briefly if he was also celebrating her moving into his room. Because the gods knew she was.

When the bottles and takeout containers were all empty, they made their way into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Regis’s arm was still a permanent fixture around her. Tissaia didn’t mind at all, especially the way his hand ran from her hip to her waist and back in a steady pattern. Drunk Regis apparently liked to  _ touch _ , she noticed, watching his other hand glide across her wrist and down her arm, then back again to caress her fingers. The goosebumps peppering her skin at his touch combined with the light buzz of the alcohol felt wonderful. 

“How did you know?” Triss asked drowsily, looking at them with a small frown. 

“Hmm?” Tissaia replied, doing her best to focus on something besides what Regis’ fingers were doing. 

Triss sighed. “Annarietta and I had a fight.” After a few weeks of Triss stopping by Annarietta’s shop just about every day, Triss had finally mustered up the courage to ask her out. As far as Tissaia knew, things were going really well. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She patted Triss on the knee. “But all couples fight.” 

“You guys don’t. And you  _ work  _ together.” 

Tissaia frowned. This would be difficult to explain. But mercifully, Triss kept talking. 

“It’s just…” She picked up a throw pillow and fiddled with the braided trim. “She actually said I could stay with her and… I don’t know. I guess I freaked out a little. I mean.... It just seems too soon to be living together.” She let out a sigh, and let the pillow fall to the side again. “And I just wondered… when did you two know? That you were meant for each other, I mean. Like.... how did you each know that you’d found  _ the one _ ?” 

Tissaia’s heart raced, as Regis’ hand dropped from her arm and she sat up a little to look at him. “Well,” she began. “From the moment Regis and I met, I could tell he had a huge heart. It was a slippery slope from there.” 

Regis looked at her with soft eyes while the words continued to pour from her lips. “He’s the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met. How could I not fall in love with him? He made room in his heart for me at a time when… when I needed it most, and never asked me for anything in return or expected me to change. I don’t think there was any ‘ _ Aha!’  _ moment where I suddenly knew, but I do remember waking up one morning, and realizing I’d fallen for him along the way.” 

_ This morning, actually... _

Regis squeezed her hand gently, and Tissaia added one last thing. “And it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s so handsome. I think the first time I saw him in suspenders was when I was really sold.” Tissaia fanned herself and laughed.  _ It must be the wine. _

Triss laughed with her and then sniffled. “What about you, Regis?” 

Tissaia looked at him shyly, feeling bad he was put on the spot like this. 

Regis’ eyes met hers, and he gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, before looking down at her hand in his. “I suppose I knew at the Christmas party.... or at least, I had some idea,” he said softly, running his thumb gently across Tissaia’s knuckles. 

“I’ve found Tissaia beautiful from the moment I first laid eyes on her, of course,” Regis continued, bringing her hand to his lips. “I admired her efficiency and ability at work immediately… but that night, I saw who she was underneath it all. How kind and thoughtful she was, despite life’s hardships and unkindnesses. And oh, what a spirit she has. I knew that night that I would be lucky to love her.” 

Tissaia felt tears pricking her eyes. He was certainly putting on a performance for Triss, but if he meant it even halfway… 

And then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could stay here forever, breathing him in. But then Triss stirred and she sat up again. 

Triss took a good look at them, and then yawned dramatically. “You know what? I’m actually gonna go to bed, I think. It’s been a long day. Thank you again so much, and… you’ve given me a lot to think about. Night, you two.” She gave them a soft smile and floated off to the guest bedroom.

Tissaia blinked rapidly, watching her retreating figure. “We probably should head for bed before we fall asleep out here.” She laughed, remembering the first time they had spent the night together on her couch. “It’s so far though,” she pouted, trying to lighten the mood.

“I could always carry you,” Regis offered, giving her a lazy smile. Tissaia trailed her fingers down the side of his face. He looked so carefree.

“You, sir, are drunk. You’d probably drop me. Maybe another time,” she said with a giggle. She extracted herself from his arm, rising from the couch, and tugged at his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Regis stood, and allowed Tissaia to pull him along to his bedroom. “Who am I to resist someone as lovely as you?” he asked playfully, twirling her under his arm as though they were ballroom dancing. He gallantly gestured for her to enter the room first. 

“How are you so…. so  _ charming _ , all the time?” she asked, looking up at him. She hoped he couldn’t see her deep blush in the semi-dark.

He laughed. “Charming? Me? I think awkward and pretentious might be better descriptors, my darling.” He pulled her close, tracing small circles in her lower back that sent tingles and goosebumps all over her body.

Tissaia narrowed her eyes at him. “And  _ I think _ that for someone who gives enough sweet compliments to put a permanent blush on my face, you really can’t take one, can you?”  _ Did he really just bat his eyelashes? _

“Perhaps I am simply out of practice.” 

“ _ Perhaps _ I’ll just have to start making  _ you _ blush just as much, Emiel.” She prodded him playfully in the chest, and Regis fell backward onto the bed, pulling her with him.

It was dark, but she could see the playful sparkle in his eyes, as he watched her. “And just how do you intend to do that?”

“I have my ways,” Tissaia leaned her arms on his chest and gave him a mischievous smile. 

A smirk slowly spread across Regis’ lips. “Is that right?” he asked slyly.

She giggled, and nodded.

“And what if I am simply not as prone to blushing as you?”

“I’ll just have to resort to....” she paused, struggling for an alternative thing to say, “ _ other  _ ways,” she finished, feeling a bit sheepish. 

“Was that a threat, Ms. de Vries?” he asked softly, looking up at her. There was a dark shadow to his smile that she hadn’t seen before, and it threw her off-guard for the briefest of moments.

“Maybe it was,” Tissaia whispered. She couldn’t help but smile at the charming,  _ sexy _ man beneath her. She became aware of his hand lightly touching her back, and it was so  _ distracting. _

“You should be careful making threats, love.” Regis’ lips curled ever so slightly further upwards, and he ran a fingertip gently down her face. “One might take that as permission to threaten  _ you _ in such a way.”

Perhaps it was the wine that made her so bold, or the magic of Regis’ touch, or the way he called her “love,” but Tissaia leaned in, until her nose almost touched his. 

“I dare you,” she whispered defiantly. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and pushed herself off of him before Regis could respond,  _ Before she could begin imagining how many other ways she wanted to kiss him.  _

Her face was hot as she slipped into the bathroom without looking at him. She chose a long-sleeved open neck shirt and, as always, a pair of Regis’ too-long plaid pajama bottoms. 

When she went back into the bedroom, Regis took his turn to change. She noticed he went out of his way to brush against her as he passed. Tissaia pulled the covers back on her side ( _ My side!  _ she giggled to herself) and plunked down. She stretched out on the bed, wiggling until she was comfortable, and found that all the wine had made her quite sleepy. She was already half-dozing when Regis slid into bed behind her. 

She felt his arm slip around her, and his other hand searched under the pillow until it found hers, as he pulled her close to him. His whiskers tickled her neck, and she could burst with the warm feeling that was erupting inside her. 

“You dare me, do you?” Regis’ voice against her skin instantly caused a trail of goosebumps that Tissaia was certain he could feel.

“I dare you,” she repeated. Her whole body was now fully awake, and on fire with his touch.

“It’s not as though I needed a further excuse,” he whispered into her ear. His fingers gently traced the outline of the ribs along her side, and Tissaia enjoyed the way her body reacted to his touch.

“What do you-” she started to say, but whatever thoughts she had were lost, when she felt his lips brush the sensitive place where her neck met her shoulder. 

She melted against him, and his hand came up to gently bring her shoulder closer. Tissaia let out the breath she had held, thinking he was pulling away, but Regis wasn’t finished with her. He softly kissed his way up her neck, just barely ghosting with the tip of his tongue, and came to settle on the delicate area just under her ear. His teeth grazed her skin ever so lightly, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Somewhere in the midst of this, Tissaia remembered she had a voice. She opened her mouth to speak, but the only word that came out was, “Please.” It felt as though she had a balloon in her chest that inflated more each time he kissed her. She felt very intimately every swirl his tongue made on her flesh, and her breath came quickly in short gasps, between which… she begged him. Tissaia didn’t know what she was begging him to do, but it was all she could do when his mouth clamped down on that first, most sensitive area at the base of her neck. Regis rolled her skin between his teeth, applying a delicious pressure that made her toes  _ curl _ .

She reached back and held him there, her fingers tangled in his hair. Tissaia had never wanted anyone so badly in her entire life. “Emiel, please… _ oh! _ ” His teeth dug into her neck, and she felt like she was going to burst with the overwhelming sensation.

He released her neck, and she took a moment to catch her breath.  _ It’s now or never, _ she thought as she turned to face him, brushing her hair back as she rolled over … only to see that Regis had fallen asleep. He lay on his back, the corners of his lips gently upturned in a small smile. Tissaia let out a small sigh of frustration.  _ So close. _ She wistfully brushed the few stray silver hairs from Regis’ face, and curled into his side, laying her hand on his chest. 

“I like it when you kiss me,” she whispered as she fell asleep.

Tissaia awoke the next morning with a headache, and an urgent need to pee. Regis’ arms were wrapped around her, and he groaned in protest when she pulled away.

“I have to go to the bathroom, and get coffee going,” she whispered. “I’ll be back.” She pressed a kiss to his bare arm, and pulled herself out of bed. The bright bathroom light hurt her eyes, so she left it off. She brushed her teeth, then headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She stopped in the living room to get an aspirin from her purse, and saw Triss sitting on the couch. 

“Hey, could I please get one of those from you?” Triss gestured to the pill bottle. “I’ve got a little baby hangover headache and it’s not the most fun way to start a morning.”

“Oh, of course!” Tissaia handed the bottle to her, and went into the kitchen. She was measuring coffee into the basket, when Triss leaned up against the counter beside her.

“So  _ someone _ had a great time last night after I went to bed.” Triss smiled evilly at her.

Tissaia squinted at her, as she started the coffee pot. “What are you talking about? We went to bed shortly after you did.”

Triss laughed. “I’m sure you did. But I have to ask, is Regis a vampire?”

“What?”

“I feel like he’s probably a really  _ talented _ vampire, from the looks of things.”

“What do you mean?” Tissaia was getting slightly irritated, which just seemed to make Triss laugh harder.

“Babe, your neck. Did you not see yourself in the mirror?”

Tissaia’s eyes widened, and her hand flew to her neck. She ran back to the bathroom and flipped on the light, wincing from the brightness. She took a deep breath, stepped in front of the mirror, and almost had a heart attack. There, at the base of her neck, was a perfect imprint of Regis’ teeth, surrounding a large hickey of the same dark purple color.

Panic filled Tissaia’s mind as she imagined how her coworkers would react, then how  _ Regis _ would react. He probably didn’t remember kissing her, or leaving the mark, and he would feel terrible.  _ And yet… _ she ran her fingers over the teeth marks. It was almost… sexy, in a way, imagining him leaving it there intentionally, to mark her as  _ his. _

In any case, it was going to be seen, and whatever was going to happen would have to happen, because she had no way to hide it. Tissaia went back to the kitchen, her face a beet red.

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” Triss said, “Geralt and Jaskier come in with hickeys all the time, now.”

Tissaia grabbed three coffee cups from the cabinet and sighed. “I know, I just…”

Triss squeezed her arm reassuringly. “So you fucked your fiancé. It’s  _ okay. _ People assume that engaged couples are having sex anyway, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Tissaia.”

_ We didn’t have sex! _ she thought desperately.

“Oh hey, morning, Count Boss-ula!” Triss announced with a giggle, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Tissaia felt Regis’ arms snake around her waist from behind.  _ Oh no, oh no, oh no. _

“Good morning,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "You decided not to come back, after all, I see."

Triss stifled a laugh, and made her way out of the kitchen. Tissaia’s blush deepened. She pulled away from Regis, and poured them each a cup of coffee.

"Is something wrong?"

Tissaia couldn’t look at him. She didn't know what to say, or how to explain. She felt ashamed, in a way; anxious about how Regis would react when he saw. More than anything else, she worried that he didn’t remember, and that he would feel guilty, and not want to touch her.

"Tissaia, darling, what is it?" His hand curled gently around hers, and she turned to him.

"Do you… remember going to bed last night?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes." He  _ blushed.  _ "I'm so sorry, I was quite… forward, wasn't I?"

_ He did remember. _ "No, it's not that… I just… please don't be upset."

Regis frowned. "Whatever could I have to be upset over?"

She took a deep breath and brushed her hair aside, baring her neck to him. His eyes widened slightly, and he gently traced the mark on her neck with his fingertips.

"Tissaia… did I hurt you?" he asked softly. She could see the concern in his eyes, but there was something else, too. Something she couldn't quite identify.

Tissaia shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you… upset with me?" Regis looked at her cautiously. But there was still something else. 

"No, I only thought that you would be upset for having done it. I don't mind… I've just… no one has ever…" she trailed off, blushing furiously.

"...left you a love bite?" Regis asked. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Tissaia nodded shyly. She looked away, reaching in the fridge to grab the cream for her coffee. 

“Do you like it?” His question startled her, and she almost dropped the carton.

She nodded again, blushing harder.

"Despite the… possessive implication?"

Tissaia swallowed. "… _ because _ of the implication," she whispered, slowly looking up to meet his eyes.

"If you were curious,” Regis said softly, "that makes it…  _ incredibly _ attractive…. to me."

His dark eyes burned through Tissaia, and it finally dawned on her what it was she saw in his face: desire.  _ He wanted her. _ Every second felt like an hour, as he brought his hand to her waist, and stepped in just a little closer. 

“Ms. de Vries, I wonder if I might-”

“Please,” she breathed, bringing both hands up to his shoulders. “Please do.”

Regis’ other hand buried itself in her hair, tilting her head slightly upward, as he slowly moved closer.  _ He’s going to kiss me,  _ her heart sang.  _ He’s going to kiss me for real, this time. _

“Uh, guys?” 

They both turned, to see Triss in the kitchen doorway, her cell phone held out in a shaking hand. She looked like she was about to cry.

“Triss, what’s wrong?” Tissaia asked, peeling herself away from Regis.

“Geralt’s on the phone, Regis. He needs to talk to you. Corvo is…. There was a fire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting the extra week for this chapter! Chapter 12 is mostly written, as is a lot of the ending, but what comes between that is very much not written. Rita is heading into a very busy few weeks at work, and well, it’s Christmas and all that, so we may need to take two weeks again for a few upcoming chapters. Just know that we are still working hard at this story, and we thank you for your understanding and investment in our rare pair! Your comments mean the world.


	12. From the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the face of disaster, Tissaia must be strong for Regis, while battling her own feelings of guilt as their Corvo family rallies to confront their uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being patient and waiting longer! We love each and every one of you. Your reviews keep the story going, at least on my end - it's much easier to stay motivated, seeing all the love for these characters as we've written them, and it's a joy to write. From the bottom of my heart, thank you - Ro (Gryphonheart)

Regis took the phone from Triss, and she threw her arms around Tissaia. “Oh my gods, Tissaia. It’s gone… Corvo’s gone. What do we do?” she asked tearfully. 

_Corvo is gone?_ Tissaia’s stomach dropped, but as she looked at the tears in Triss’ eyes, Regis’ words repeated in her mind: _It’s easier to do something, when it’s for someone else._ In that moment, Tissaia resolved to be strong and hold it together, at least for now. She gave Triss a reassuring squeeze. “We get dressed, and make our coffee to go.”

Triss, still in her pajamas, disappeared into the guest bedroom to change, and Tissaia poured the coffee into travel mugs. She went back to the bedroom to get dressed, and found Regis sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbows rested heavily on his knees, and his head was in his hands as he stared at the floor.

“Hey,” she said softly. He didn’t move. Tissaia moved in closer, and gently ran her fingers through his hair. Regis said nothing, but he reached out and pulled her into him.

“Are we meeting Geralt at the restaurant?” 

He nodded. “I… will need to speak with the police, and the fire department, and I’ll need to make some phone calls, and then… eventually we’ll need to get the staff together. Perhaps we can have them here afterwards.” Regis looked up at her finally. “I’m not sure where to begin with this,” he said, toying idly with a thread dangling from the hem of her shirt. He looked lost. “Everyone will expect me to know what to do.”

“I don’t expect that,” she said, running her thumbs across his whiskers. “I don’t think anyone else will either. We’ll figure out what to do, Emiel. This is... hard, but we’ll get through it together.” She forced a smile, and gave him one final squeeze before pulling away. “But right now, we need to get dressed so we can go.”

Regis nodded, and got up. He walked over to the closet to pick out some clothes, and Tissaia turned away. She pulled on her jeans, then looked around for her bra. She vaguely remembered dropping it on her way out of the bathroom the night before, but now it was nowhere to be found. 

“Um, I have a bit of an awkward issue…” she said, nervously laughing. 

“What is it?” 

Tissaia turned, to see Regis standing there in just his jeans. He had another raven tattooed across the left side of his chest, and there were a pair of them in flight down the ribs on his right side, ending at his hip. She ignored the part of her brain that wanted to think about how attracted she was to him.  _ Now is not the time. Maybe later, though. _

“Is… my bra over there? I’m not really sure where it landed… last night.” 

Regis stooped down, and picked up the bra, handing it to her over the bed. Once he turned back around, Tissaia finished getting dressed. She just wore the same shirt because it was comfortable, and pulled on a pair of socks. 

Compared to his usual formal attire, Regis looked underdressed in jeans and a blue plaid flannel. He took Tissaia’s hand, and they headed out to get their coats. Triss was waiting by the kitchen, and Regis returned her cell phone. 

“Would you like to wait here, or come with us?” he asked her. “I’m sure there won’t be much to do…”

“I’m going with you, obviously,” Triss said firmly. “Regis, you know we’re all with you. We’re a family.” She gave him a quick hug, and then went to grab her coat.

The drive to the restaurant took no longer than it usually did, yet felt like hours. There were three fire trucks and several police cars blocking the street when Regis pulled up. One of the officers directed him to park across the street. 

When they got out of the car, Tissaia couldn’t help but gasp when she caught sight of the smoldering ruins that had been Corvo Bianco. The roof was almost completely gone, the remaining walls blackened. Triss, who had followed in her own car, climbed out and joined them, tears spilling down her cheeks as she looked at the smoking building. Regis’ hand found Tissaia’s, and he held it tightly. 

“Regis! Tissaia!” Geralt ran over and pulled them both into a tight hug. Eskel and Lambert were not far behind him. 

“I’m so sorry, Regis,” Eskel said, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk.

“Are you the owner?” One of the police officers came over to talk to Regis.

“I- yes, I’m Regis Terzieff-Godefroy,” he said, looking somewhat dazed. “This is… was my restaurant.”

“We have a few questions for you. Would you prefer if we spoke privately, sir?” the officer asked.

“I… yes, that would probably be best,” Regis agreed. The officer gestured down the sidewalk, and Regis followed him, still holding Tissaia’s hand tightly. “This is my fiance, Tissaia de Vries. She’ll be joining us, if that’s all right.”

The officer nodded. “Sir, our initial assessment suggests this was likely arson. Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

Regis looked down at Tissaia, his lips forming a hard line. “Yes,” he said resolutely. “Yes, I believe we know who is behind this.”

Regis provided details about Stregobor’s harassment of Tissaia, the break-in at her apartment, and the threatening letter, then offered Vesemir’s contact information.

“We’ll contact your lawyer with anything we find, and any questions we might have. The fire department will let you know when it’s safe to re-enter the premises. I’m terribly sorry this happened, sir.”

“As am I,” Regis said. “Thank you for your assistance… it’s greatly appreciated.”

Tissaia felt the lump growing in her throat as they walked back to where Geralt and the others stood waiting. Stregobor had done this to Regis  _ because of her. _ She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the sidewalk.  _ If the staff knew that they’ve probably lost their jobs because of me…  _ Regis’ fingers laced between hers just then, and Tissaia felt their rings clinking together. 

_ Regis needs me to help him get through this.  _ The thought gave her the strength she needed to stay focused, and she squeezed his hand.

Geralt was staring forlornly at the charred building. “I had all those Wellingtons ready to go in the fridge, too,” he muttered sadly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Tissaia patted his forearm. “You can make more soon,” she said softly, offering him what she hoped was a comforting smile. “In the meantime, can you get everyone to Regis’ house tonight? Maybe around 6:00? We should have… some kind of plan by then.”

Geralt nodded. “That works. I’ll send out a group text to meet at your place later. Regis, can you let everyone know not to come in? That’s all you have to say, I’ll take it from there. Tell everyone to send their questions to me. You’ve got enough to do.”

Regis nodded, and let go of Tissaia’s hand to pull out his phone. A moment later, everyone’s phones buzzed with the notification. Tissaia read her screen. 

_ I am sorry to tell you all that there has been a fire at Corvo Bianco. There is considerable damage, and the restaurant will be closed for the foreseeable future. Geralt will be in contact shortly with more information. Please direct your texts and questions to him for now. You are all in my thoughts. Take care. Regis _

She looked up to see Regis huddled with Geralt, his hand placed reassuringly on Geralt’s shoulder as they spoke, and she found herself once again taken aback by how kind and thoughtful Regis was. Even when he was very clearly hurting, Regis’ first instinct was to comfort others. 

“Well,” Regis said with a small, sad smile when he saw Tissaia watching him. “I suppose we’d better get going. Lots to do today.” 

She slid her arm around him and gave him a little squeeze. “I’ll be right here with you.”

Triss approached them. “Guys, I’m going to go with Lambert and Eskel. We’ll do some shopping and bring dinner over tonight.” She gave Tissaia another hug. “Just let us know if we can do anything else, okay? Anything at all.” 

They nodded and thanked her and trudged back to Regis’ car. Tissaia watched him take one last look back at the remains before he got back in. He was heartbroken… and it was her fault. They pulled away in silence, each lost in their thoughts, until Tissaia’s phone buzzed again a few minutes later, and she read Geralt’s message to Regis. 

_ Hi everyone. We’re hoping you can all meet at Regis’ tonight at 6:00 for some dinner and to discuss what the next little while is gonna look like. Just so you know, the investigators said it was likely arson. I will let you know if I hear any more updates from Regis today. In the meantime, do not bug him for more info! Send me your questions. See you tonight. G. _

When they got back to Regis’ house, he phoned the insurance company to start the claim, then immediately called Vesemir on speaker phone. He answered before the first ring could even finish.

“I heard,” Vesesmir said as a greeting. “That bastard. How are you two holding up?”

Tissaia looked at Regis, but then Vesemir continued. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I can imagine how you’re feeling. I’ve already asked Gaunter to see if he can sniff anything out about the arson. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve also put some extra security on Lavinia’s, and the new place… and your house.” 

Tissaia felt the pit in her stomach growing. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Streobor not stopping with Corvo. “Thank you,” she managed to mumble. Regis’ head was bowed as he stared down at his hands in silence.

“I’ll see what else I can learn from my contact at the station, and will check in with Gaunter periodically. In the meantime, let me know if you need help with anything else. Stregobor is not going to get away with this. Please be careful, both of you, and stay safe.” 

Tissaia thanked him and promised to keep him updated on any developments from their end. Regis managed to murmur a goodbye. Tissaia hung up and looked at him helplessly. 

“What can I do?” she asked him. She wanted to be useful, to  _ help _ ... but Tissaia was also somewhat selfishly motivated, desperate to keep her mind occupied with anything but the crushing guilt she felt. 

“I...” Regis cleared his throat. “There are…. I have some documents in the basement I need to pull out,” he said slowly. 

Tissaia stood and held out her hand to him. “Let’s go find them.” 

He looked at her hand a moment, then up at her eyes. She tried to show him nothing but strength. She was determined to be his pillar. 

He nodded once and took her hand. “Okay.” 

It didn’t take them too long to find the right boxes. Regis’ storage room was immaculately organized and labelled. However, it took some time to pull the necessary insurance papers out of the thick stacks of files. 

They were about finished when Tissaia’s stomach growled loudly in the small room. She stopped and grinned somewhat sheepishly. “I think I need some lunch.” She looked at her phone and saw that it was already past two o’clock. 

“Yes, of course. Let’s go eat.” 

Regis followed her back up the stairs and into the kitchen. Tissaia pulled some cheese and meat out of the fridge to make them sandwiches. Regis smiled politely, and thanked her when she placed the plate in front of him, but then only picked at the bread. 

“You really should eat something,” she said gently. 

He nodded and took a small bite of the sandwich, but then placed it back on the plate and didn’t touch it again. Not wanting to push, Tissaia didn’t mention it further, and put the rest in the fridge when he excused himself.

After she ate, they scanned some of the documents to email to the insurance company, but once that task was complete they found themselves in the living room with nothing to do. Tissaia tried to relax on the couch, but Regis seemed unable to sit. She watched him slowly pacing the length of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He gazed blankly at the floor as he moved. 

She wanted desperately to tell him how sorry she was, for bringing this on him, but she knew he would then feel the need to comfort her.  _ Pull yourself together, Tissaia. Regis needs comfort and support right now more than you do,  _ she told herself firmly.

She looked at him thoughtfully as an idea suddenly occurred to her. “How long until the new restaurant is ready, do you think?” she asked. 

Regis rubbed his eyes. “The last time I spoke with the project manager, I think he said it would be roughly three weeks?” 

“Hmm. Do you think we could possibly… speed that up? Like if you had, say, 22 people suddenly without jobs available to help?”

Regis stopped pacing and looked at her, a flicker in his eyes. “I suppose we could…” He drifted over to the front window, and stared out at the street, the lines of his face drawn into a frown. “I wouldn’t want anyone to feel pressured to help though. I can’t expect that everyone would wish to do that type of work… and they may want to find somewhere else….” His gaze was distant and unfocused as he trailed off.

Tissaia got up, and made her way to stand beside him at the window, gently placing her hand on his lower back. “They love you, Regis,” she said simply. “That won’t change, whether they’re working at Corvo, or the new restaurant, or somewhere else entirely.” 

He swallowed audibly and nodded. She smoothed her hand in a small circle. “You can at least ask them. They might want to help.” 

When Regis began pacing again, Tissaia put an Ella Fitzgerald record on the turntable, hoping that it might soothe his nerves in ways she couldn’t. Since he didn’t seem interested in talking, and she didn’t have any work to do, she sat back on the couch, grabbed her book from the side table, and tried her best to disappear into the story as the time ticked slowly, painfully, by. 

Regis eventually joined her on the couch, picking up his own book from the coffee table as he settled beside her. He opened it to his bookmark. To a casual observer, he would have appeared to be interested in the book, but Tissaia was pretty sure he wasn’t actually reading, only staring at the pages.  _ At least he tried, _ she thought sadly.

Tissaia was just turning back to her book, when Regis shifted beside her. Wordlessly, he reached around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. She smiled, and brought her legs up underneath her, leaning against Regis’ shoulder. The gentle weight of his arm around her was comforting, as was the feeling of his chin against her head. 

She must have drifted off, because the next thing Tissaia knew, she woke up laying against Regis’ chest. Both of his arms were wrapped around her, and she could feel him twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. 

“Wh-what time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

Regis’ hand stilled for a moment, then his arms tightened around her ever-so-slightly. “Nearly 4:45,” he said softly. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you, with my… fidgeting.” He let her hair slip from his hand.

Tissaia shook her head. “I like having my hair played with.” She looked up at him, brushing the side of his jaw with her cheek as she moved. “Are you okay, Emiel?”

Regis looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “I only hope that the staff will want to go along with your plan.”

She sat up, and his hands fell to her sides. “They  _ will. _ ” Tissaia said firmly. It didn’t escape her that he hadn’t answered the question.

At 5:00, the doorbell rang. When Tissaia opened the door, Eskel, Lambert, and Triss piled in, weighed down by bags of food, which they deposited on the kitchen table. Triss looked around in the cabinets, pulling out baking sheets, while Lambert fired up the double oven. 

Eskel made his way over to where Regis stood leaning against the counter, and wrapped him in a tight hug. “Hey, Regis. We’re gonna get through this, buddy. Are you doing okay?” 

Regis stiffened for a moment, but then hugged him back. “Thank you, Eskel, that… means a great deal to me. I… we’re all right.” He pulled away after a moment, and glanced at the pile of bags on the table. “How much food did you bring?” 

Lambert joined them, grinning as he rolled up his sleeves and began unpacking the bags. “You know how much this crew eats, boss. Told you earlier we were making dinner tonight, and  _ this one,”  _ he said, wrapping an arm around Eskel and giving him a squeeze, “pointed out that there is no situation that can’t be improved by a pizza party.” He pushed a few stray red curls back out of his eyes, and got to work setting up an assembly line on the table and the nearby counter space.

Lambert, Eskel, and Triss had clearly spent the day mixing dough and dicing toppings, and they got busy assembling the pizzas. Tissaia watched Regis work, noticing his attempts to smile at Lambert’s jokes.  _ It’s going to be hard for him to address everyone tonight. _

She put her hair up and washed her hands, then dove in to help. She was startled when Lambert suddenly made a “HA!” noise. He pointed an accusing finger at Tissaia, then turned it to Regis, grinning.

“Well, holy shit, boss. If I’d known it was cool to show up at work covered in hickeys, me and Eskel would have made it a point to outdo you.”

Tissaia’s face flushed, and her hand flew to her neck. She had completely forgotten about the hickey after the events of the day. Her eyes locked on Regis’, and she was surprised to see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Terribly bold words, Lambert,” he said smoothly, crossing the kitchen to join them by the counter. “It’s quite the assumption, to imagine that you  _ could _ .” Regis wrapped an arm around Tissaia’s waist.

Lambert guffawed and then looked at Eskel pointedly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Challenge accepted.” 

Eskel blushed into his green peppers and Triss snickered. Tissaia couldn’t help but smile. It was good for Regis to have his family around him. And if he took Lambert up on the challenge, well… The blush on her face deepened as she considered the idea of him leaving  _ more _ hickeys on her. Tissaia left her hair up, deciding she didn’t care if anyone saw the mark on her neck - implications be damned.

At 6:00 the doorbell started to ring as the rest of the staff began to arrive. Essi started crying the minute she got in the door and Triss pulled her in for a hug. Geralt and Jaskier were right behind her, loaded down with several bottles of wine. Tissaia immediately noticed the absence of Jaskier’s easy chatter. Instead, he had wrapped himself around Geralt as soon as they deposited the wine, tucking his head under Geralt’s chin. 

Regis greeted everyone as they came in, Coen and Annika, plus the rest of the waitstaff and busboys, accepting hugs and handshakes. Tissaia had never seen so many sad faces in one room, aside from funerals. Although, in a way it felt like one - gathering all together to mourn the loss of something important. 

While it had been their place of employment, Corvo Bianco was a sort of home to them all - friendships and relationships had been forged under its roof, and there was a sense of belonging... of  _ family, _ even for those who had no families of their own. Everyone had loved the restaurant for their own reasons, and Tissaia was glad that the entire staff had made it tonight. It was easier to find comfort with those who understood the magnitude of the loss, and she hoped that it would be easier for Regis, as well.

It wasn’t long before Lambert appeared in the kitchen doorway, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. “Pizza’s ready!” he announced loudly. “Come and get some while it’s hot!” 

The smell made Tissaia’s mouth water, and she followed the crowd as they shuffled into the kitchen. Lambert was right, they did eat a ton. The pizzas disappeared quickly as everyone loaded their plates, and found places to eat around the kitchen and living room. 

Tissaia watched to make sure Regis took some food, then looked around for a place for them to sit. Regis sank into the large armchair by the piano, and she squeezed in beside him, balancing her plate carefully on her lap. 

“I hope this is okay,” she whispered, glancing up at him. “There’s nowhere else to sit, and… I thought you might like the company.”

Regis didn’t answer, but his arm slid behind her back to gently pull her a bit closer, and Tissaia’s heart warmed when he took a hearty bite of his pizza. 

A bit later, it looked like people were starting to finish up. The group was still somewhat hushed when the doorbell rang again, and the sharp noise seemed disconcertingly loud in the quiet room. Tissaia looked around, not sure who it could be. It seemed to her that everyone had already arrived. 

Jaskier peeled himself away from Geralt and went to answer the door. “Cahir!” he cried out when he opened it. “You’re back!” 

A tall, angular man with slicked back hair, dramatic cheekbones, and a sharp jawline hugged Jaskier and entered the room, face solemn.  _ Ah, so this was their bartender. _ Cahir had been off since Tissaia had started at Corvo, caring for his mother in Novigrad after she’d had major surgery. She knew he’d be returning soon but didn’t know he was back in town already. 

Geralt was on him before Tissaia could even blink. “Cahir,” he growled, extending a hand. “Good to have you back,” he said, like it was anything but. Tissaia noticed that Geralt slid his arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled him close. 

Cahir’s lips curled into a disingenuous smile. “Geralt.”

“Oh my gods!” Triss pushed past Geralt to throw her arms around Cahir. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

As the rest of the staff greeted their long-absent coworker, Tissaia took the opportunity to excuse herself, collecting a few empty plates as she made her way back to the kitchen. As much as she wanted to support Regis, it was getting hard to sit still and face everyone. She knew the real reason they were all meeting like this, and it was because of her. 

Depositing her stack of plates in the sink, Tissaia grabbed a wet cloth and began wiping down the counters and prep area. Her shoulders shook with the stress that ate away at her, and she let it out by aggressively scrubbing the countertop. 

_ I let them down, _ she thought miserably, as she filled the sink to begin washing the baking sheets.  _ Gods, I hope this plan works, because I can’t bear to let Regis down again. He’s worked so hard for this restaurant, and he deserves to see it succeed, not burn to the ground because I pissed off my mobster ex-husband. _

Tears came to her eyes at the thought, and she scrubbed harder at a particularly burnt-on splotch of pizza sauce. Her thoughts were interrupted, when a voice spoke softly behind her.

“It seems we had the same thought, darling.”

Tissaia turned, to see Regis setting down a few cups by the sink beside her. She hastily wiped her hands on a dish towel, and wiped at her eyes. “You know me,” she said with a small sniffle as she tried to smile at him. “It’s easier... getting through things, if I’m busy.”

Regis was silent, but he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll be all right, love,” he whispered, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

“I’m so sorry, Emiel,” she sniffled into his shirt. “This is so awful, and I can’t help but-”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Tissaia looked up at Regis, and he offered her a small smile. “No tears for me, remember?”

He took her hand, and they made their way back to join the others. Things had apparently gotten heated in the living room. Geralt stood, one arm tight around Jaskier, while he glared daggers at Cahir, looking like he was ready to heave the man right back out the door. Regis had told Tissaia that Cahir could be prickly, but he was a terrific bartender, and the customers ate up his biting sarcasm and acerbic quips. It was clear, however, there had been no love lost between him and Geralt.

Luckily, Regis steered Tissaia over to the door before Geralt could do anything rash, and greeted Cahir warmly. 

“Cahir, it’s good to see you, my friend,” Regis said, hugging him tightly. “I hadn’t thought you would be back in town quite so soon.” 

“I just got back last night. I’m sorry I’m not seeing you under happier circumstances,” Cahir said. 

Regis nodded. “I’d like to introduce you to my fiancé, Tissaia de Vries. She is also the current manager of Corvo.” He turned to Tissaia. “Darling, this is Cahir Ceallach.”

Cahir appraised her matter-of-factly. “Tissaia,” he gracefully inclined his head. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you.” 

She noticed that he didn’t say he’d heard anything good.  _ Prickly, indeed. _ “Cahir, It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” she said, shaking his hand with a smile. 

“You’re just in time for dinner,” Regis informed Cahir, and steered him towards the kitchen - and away from Geralt. “Come get some pizza, and tell me how your mother is doing.” 

Once Cahir had eaten and Geralt had gone around collecting the rest of the empty plates, Regis stood beside Tissaia’s chair and cleared his throat. All eyes were on him instantly, the room silent and waiting. 

“Well, my friends…” He smiled sadly. “Thank you all for being here tonight.” He held Tissaia’s eyes for a moment. “Tissaia and I want you to know, first and foremost, that this is not the end of Corvo Bianco, and the restaurant  _ will _ be back. The process to begin the repairs is already underway, and we will do everything in our power to re-open as soon as possible.”

Regis paused, and Tissaia could see him fiddling with his rings. She reached out, and gently laced her fingers between his, hoping it might show her support and give him the tiniest bit of strength. He gave her hand a squeeze, as he continued.

“In the meantime... while you are of course under no obligation, I would like to invite you all to join us in working at the new restaurant - helping to finish the renovations, and staffing it when it opens.” 

An excited hum overtook the room. 

“It is, of course, entirely your choice,” Regis continued, “and we will completely understand if you wish to move on, and find somewhere else to work.” 

The quiet chatter ceased as the group blinked at him in confusion. 

“Are you fucking crazy? Of course we’re staying,” Lambert interjected. His response was met with a chorus of chuckles and murmured agreements. 

Regis smiled at him. “Thank you, Lambert. But not everyone-”

“Yes, everyone!” Lambert said incredulously, looking around the room at the sea of bobbing heads. 

Tissaia could see the hope beginning to shine in Regis’ eyes for the first time that day, and she felt her heart swelling in relief at the thought. 

After a bit more discussion about what the next few days might look like, the group began saying their goodbyes and trickling out the door. Lambert settled himself at the piano and began to play ‘Let It Be’, singing softly, almost to himself. Eskel sat with him, placing a hand on Lambert’s knee. Regis pulled Tisssaia down next to him on the couch, and she was relieved when he slipped his arm around her. 

“Hey guys?” Triss approached them when the song finished, biting her lip. “I’m going to go stay with Annarietta. I know,” Triss held up a hand, cutting off Regis’ protest, “that you’d be happy to have me, but you just have so much going on right now, and I don’t want to create any extra work for you. And besides,” she continued, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and… it just makes sense to stay with her. Life is short, right? You never know what could happen tomorrow.” 

Essi and Triss were the last to leave, and Tissaia locked the door behind them. Eskel and Lambert had washed all the dishes, and Geralt had taken out the trash, so there was nothing left for her to clean, and Tissaia didn’t know what to do with herself. 

She looked back at the couch, where Regis sat curled into the armrest. It was plain to see that putting on a good face for the staff was beginning to take its toll - he looked exhausted and miserable, and Tissaia’s heart ached for him. 

“Hey,” she said softly, approaching him. Regis looked up at her, and the pained look on his face broke her heart. “Maybe you should go to bed. Tomorrow will be a brighter day.” Tissaia didn’t know if that was true or not, but it seemed like the right thing to say. She took his hand, and he slowly stood, silently allowing her to lead him back to the bedroom.

She let him go, and went to the other side of the bed to collect her pajamas.  _ HIS pajamas, _ Tissaia reminded herself, as she pulled on the soft flannel pants. She decided she would sleep in the other bedroom tonight.  _ Regis will definitely need his space, after everything that happened today. _

She came back around the bed, and smoothed the blanket over him. Her hand lingered for just a moment, and she brushed his hair from his forehead.

“Goodnight, Emiel,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his face. “I hope you can sleep well, and forget about all of this for a little while. I’ll make breakfast tomorrow, and we’ll come up with a plan to get started with the new place.”

Tissaia turned to go, but Regis caught her hand. She looked back at him, and in the dim light coming from the hallway, she could see the tears streaking his face. 

“Please don’t go,” he whispered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tissaia woke up the next morning before her alarm. She reached back, expecting to find Regis at her back as she had before. Instead, her hand fell on the empty blanket. She rolled over, to find him lying on the opposite edge of the bed, facing away from her. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, but he looked so sad, laying there with his arms curled around his shoulders.

Tissaia moved over to lay behind Regis and wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her. It felt a bit odd, holding him the way he usually held her, but it felt right, and it was obvious to her that he needed it. 

On the back of his neck, she could see another raven peeking out, its wings outspread toward his shoulders. Tissaia smiled. She would never have assumed Regis would have so many tattoos, but they were beautiful, and they fit him perfectly. She pressed a kiss to his neck just above the bird, and felt Regis stir against her. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wove between hers, and he brought her hand up to his chest.

“Good morning,” she whispered in his ear. “Would you like me to get some coffee going?”

Regis gave the slightest shake of his head, and held her hand tighter against him.

Tissaia rested her chin on his shoulder, and smiled thoughtfully. “I could… run you a bath, and tell you a story about my parents... I don’t have any banana bread though, so the magic might be lost.”

Regis laughed, and the sound was such a comfort. _ He’s okay _ . He let go of Tissaia’s hand. “I think,” he whispered, rolling over to face her, “that I would like to just lay here for a while, if that’s all right.”

_ He wants me to leave him alone. _

“Oh.” Tissaia looked away. “I… okay,” she said quietly. She rolled over to leave, but was stopped by his arm wrapping around her. Regis pulled her back to him, closer this time.

“You misunderstand,” he whispered, brushing her hair to the side with his other hand. “I would like to lie here for a while…  _ with you _ .”

Her face flushed a little, and she hoped he couldn’t see. “Okay,” she whispered back, curling her hand around his. Tissaia laid her head back down on the pillow, and felt Regis’ chin nestle between her neck and shoulder.

“I know that this situation could be much worse than it is,” he said softly. He ran his fingers across her hand, dipping between her fingers, then back again, in a constant, slow motion. “The insurance will cover everything, including rebuilding, and lost wages for the staff. Your plan is perfect, we’ll have somewhere to go until Corvo is rebuilt, and everyone’s enthusiasm to help has simply… overwhelmed me. But I am a man of sentiment, and this… even though it was merely a building…” Regis trailed off, and sighed. “It was what held me together when Dettlaff passed away,” he whispered.

His other hand combed through her hair, as he paused again. “I just feel that I am… brought to a standstill. All the pieces are in front of me, and decisions must be made. Everything is in place, and yet somehow I feel as though I am unable to set things in motion… if that makes any sort of sense.”

“It does,” Tissaia said, catching his hand in hers. “I suppose we’d better call Yennefer, and let her know to watch out for a ghost oversalting the food.”

Regis took in a sharp breath and was quiet for a moment. Tissaia wondered if she had gone too far. She was about to apologize, when he started laughing. She rolled back over to look at him.

“I-  _ gods _ , I can imagine the disapproving look on his face!” Regis chuckled. He furrowed his brows in a mock impression. “‘Emiel, all this depression is so unbecoming… tsk tsk tsk. It looks like you’ll have all of the dinner rush tomorrow to reconsider your attitude.’” He collapsed in a fit of laughter.

“Is that how he was?” Tissaia asked, trying to imagine Regis and Dettlaff bantering together.

“Oh, yes, he had a  _ wonderful _ sense of humor, very dry and sarcastic. There was never a moment he couldn’t make me laugh.” Regis smiled fondly, then looked at her for a moment. "He would have liked you, I think. It would've pleased him to no end, goading your ex-husband."

"Seeing Stregobor made uncomfortable or irritated has definitely been something I've enjoyed throughout all of this, I won't lie,” Tissaia laughed, then paused, realizing how that must have sounded. “I know that's… petty of me, but…"

“Not at all. The bastard deserves it.” 

Tissaia snorted. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Regis come even close to swearing before. 

“Well…” Regis gave her a little squeeze. “What do you say we get on with our day?” 

They had a quick breakfast of bagels and cream cheese, then the rest of the morning passed by in a blur of more phone calls and paperwork. Tissaia was typing up an email that Regis dictated while he flipped through insurance documents, when his phone rang. 

“Vesemir.” He put the call on speakerphone, and set his phone on the coffee table. “You’re on speaker. I have Tissaia here with me.”

“Regis, Tissaia. How are things going?” 

Regis sighed, looking through his stack of documents. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. I’ve been on the phone with insurance and contractors most of the morning.” 

“Well, if you need help with phone calls or paperwork, please let me know.”

Regis set down the papers, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Actually… I wonder if you might be able to help with getting the inspections moved up for the new place? With all these extra hands, we should be ready to open sooner than expected.” 

“Hmm, sure. I could make a few calls.” 

Tissaia smiled. She knew that for Vesemir ‘making a few calls’ meant that it was going to get done. 

Over the next two weeks, Regis threw himself into the renovations on the new place and the rebuild of Corvo, to an extent that Tissaia worried he was working too hard. She could see the strain in his eyes whenever she looked at him, and his face was drawn and serious. The kiss they had almost shared in the kitchen on the morning of the fire seemed like a fuzzy, faded memory, like maybe the whole thing had been a dream… At any rate, Tissaia had no time to think about what might have been, because she was there too, working exhaustively long days with Regis and the rest of the staff. Still, tired as they were, it was thrilling to see things come together before their eyes. 

At the end of another long day, when the new restaurant was nearly complete, they were climbing back into Regis’ car, when Tissaia looked back at the building. “I can’t believe I haven’t asked yet,” she mused, buckling her seatbelt. “Do you have a name for it? ‘The new place’ doesn’t really have much of a ring to it.”

“Dettlaff chose  _ Corvo Bianco _ ,” Regis said softly, running his hand down the side of the leather steering wheel. “And I named  _ Lavinia’s _ after my mother, of course, so… I thought I would call the third restaurant  _ Osric’s,  _ after my father _. _ ” 

Tissaia smiled. Regis was so sentimental, and she found it beautiful.  _ But it needs something… _

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked, turning in her seat to face him.

He glanced over at her. “Of course.”

“What if you called it…  _ Osric’s Phoenix? _ ” Tissaia didn’t often think poetically, but the idea was beautiful, the way she had imagined it, and she was determined to explain it in a way that made sense to him. “Because it’s… you. Your hopes and dreams, your first restaurant, your determination… rising from the ashes, your father’s son.”

Regis looked at her silently for a moment, then took her hand, and brought it to his lips. 

_“Osric’s Phoenix,_ it is.”


	13. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the unofficial opening night for Osric’s Phoenix, Regis and Tissaia take a trip to the coast for Olgierd and Iris’ wedding. With all the romance of a weekend away, from breathtaking scenery to heavenly wine, Tissaia may struggle to keep her feelings for Regis in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It's a day early! We so appreciate your patience and thought if we got it out today we might catch a few more of you still on holidays. We hope you like this chapter! xx

It was the middle of the night, or possibly early morning, when something startled Tissaia awake. She bolted upright and looked around, sighing with relief when she saw Regis’ tall frame in the bedroom doorway. 

“It’s only me, darling,” he said reassuringly. “I hadn’t meant to wake you, I apologize.”

She lay back against the pillows. “What time is it?” she asked with a yawn.

Regis pulled back the covers, and lay down beside her. “Nearly 2:00 a.m.. Cahir and I were setting up the bar, and got a bit caught up chatting afterward.”

Tissaia turned to face the window, settling back into her pillow. “I don’t think Cahir likes me very much,” she said. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Regis said softly, wrapping his arm around her waist as he slid closer. “He simply… doesn’t know you very well. Give him time, and I’m sure he will warm up to you.”

“I suppose so,” she conceded, yawning again.

“If it’s any consolation,” he added, pulling her against his chest, “I like you. And so does the rest of the staff.”

Tissaia smiled, feeling his arm reaching under her pillow. She found his hand with hers, and curled her fingers between his. “It is,” she whispered.

“Then lay your thoughts to rest, Ms. de Vries,” Regis whispered into her hair. “We’ve quite the schedule planned. We open the Phoenix tomorrow, then you and I escape to Temeria for the weekend.”

“Mmm… it will be nice to get away.” She found herself drifting back to sleep, and she didn’t resist it, comfortable as she was in his arms.

After Triss had left to stay with Annarietta, Tissaia had imagined she would go back to sleeping in the guest bedroom. But to her surprise, shortly after the initial shock of the fire had worn off, she had found Regis finishing laundry one morning… and putting her clothes away in his bedroom. Neither of them had said anything about it, and their routine had shifted to include falling asleep curled into each other every night. While they had never discussed the almost-kiss, or the bite mark that had taken  _ several weeks _ to fade, Tissaia’s relationship with Regis had comfortably turned into all the soft, gentle sweetness of a married couple -  _ sans _ the more sensual elements. 

Tissaia never slept better in her life than she did with Regis’ warm weight next to her, and she had noticed that he hadn’t had trouble sleeping since she moved into his room either…

Morning arrived, and it was announced by the sound of the alarm clock blaring. Without moving from his position, Regis reached out to shut off the noise. Tissaia curled a bit tighter into his shoulder, groaning her protest at being awake. 

Regis’ hand came up to ruffle her hair. “Time to get up, darling.”

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled into his t-shirt, hooking her leg behind his knee. She felt his small chuckle more than she heard it.

“How lucky for you, then, that I had the foresight to set my alarm five minutes early.”

Tissaia cracked her eyes open and gave him a playful glare. “It’s too early to start on the hypocrisy of your quips about me getting up early after a late night, but after I’ve had some coffee, I am more than willing to open that topic for discussion, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy.

Regis laughed. “Perhaps we should record it, as proof that we do disagree from time to time.” He let her hair slip from his hand as he stretched, then draped his arm across the curve of her waist. 

“Are you excited for today?” Tissaia asked, tracing the seam of his shirt sleeve with her fingertips. 

He looked at her for a moment before replying. “I am, although I must confess I’m also a bit nervous.” Regis gave her a small squeeze, and smiled. “But I think I’ve felt similarly with the two previous openings, as well. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”

Tonight’s opening would be soft, the entire clientele just family and friends. There were sure to be a few hiccups, of course, but having a new place staffed almost entirely by seasoned veterans assuaged much of Tissaia’s anxiety. 

After five more minutes of cuddling turned into ten, Tissaia reluctantly dragged herself out of bed for a shower. By the time she made her way to the kitchen, Regis had laid out a sumptuous breakfast of french toast and fresh fruit. 

“The opening of Osric’s Phoenix deserved something special,” Regis explained, topping off a pair of fizzing champagne flutes with orange juice. He set the bottle down and pulled out her chair. 

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” Tissaia sat and lifted her flute. “To Osric’s Phoenix.” 

Regis picked up his flute and delicately clinked it to hers. “To the Phoenix.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They got to the restaurant early and bustled about, carefully checking and re-checking every last detail. Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert, and Eskel all arrived shortly after, and they added to the nervous, humming energy of the place. Tissaia knew that they cared about the Phoenix every bit as much as she and Regis did, and she once again found herself feeling so incredibly grateful to be a part of this family. 

Over the course of the day, the rest of the staff trickled in, Triss, Annika, Cahir, each person tackling their jobs until every place had been set, every fork polished, every tablecloth smoothed and then smoothed again. Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel had finished all the prep for the night’s specials, and the restaurant was only a few minutes away from opening, when Regis gathered them all in the front dining room.

“Before the night begins, and we are all too busy to take a moment, I’d like to say something to you all.” He gazed around at the group fondly.

“Aw man, not another speech!” Lambert fake-groaned, and Eskel elbowed him in the ribs.

“Words cannot express my gratitude for all of your help,” Regis said, running his fingers along the top of the dining chair in front of him. “But regardless, I must thank you all - for all the hard work you’ve put into the renovations, and for staying with me. We could never have gotten this far without your help.” 

He took Tissaia’s hand, and pulled her in just a bit closer. She gave his hand a squeeze, as he continued. “We’ve had quite the journey together these past several weeks, and now... here we are at the first night of Osric’s Phoenix. I am truly blessed to have each and every one of you. A man couldn’t ask for better friends… or a more supportive fiancé.” He wrapped an arm around Tissaia’s waist, and squeezed her against his side. 

Tissaia smiled, and as she slid her arm around Regis, she was startled to catch the briefest glimpse of a glare from Cahir. It was gone when she glanced back, leaving her to wonder if she had imagined it.

“So now,” Regis smiled, his smooth voice ringing through the room as he looked at each person in turn, “let’s welcome our guests.” Everyone cheered and scurried to their places. Regis took a deep breath and opened the doors. 

The opening went better than they could have hoped, the only rough patch involving Cahir storming into the back, demanding the lemons for the bar be re-sliced. 

“Who prepped these, a five year-old?” he asked sharply, slamming the dish violently onto the metal prep counter with a loud  _ clang _ . 

Geralt’s lips formed a hard line as he furrowed his brows irritably, leveling his heavy gaze at Cahir. “They’re fine. No one in here is slicing more lemons right now, and I’m not wasting those.”

They stared each other down for a long moment before Tissaia intervened and sent Cahir back out front with his lemons. The stony look he gave her did nothing to alleviate her concern that he didn’t like her, but there was no time to worry about that right now. 

Regis made a point of stopping at each table to thank everyone for coming, bringing Tissaia with him to the last two tables. Madeline and Shani had made the drive from Cintra just for the occasion, and insisted that Regis and Tissaia sat with them as they ate dessert. Vesemir also came, although they carefully avoided discussing anything unpleasant. Instead Vesemir raved about the menu, declaring it Geralt’s best one yet. 

The customers all raved, in fact, although they were of course all family and friends. The real test would come when the public started trickling in over the weekend. Tissaia felt a pinch of anxiety about not being there for the two days, but the thought of a romantic weekend away with Regis was very appealing.  _ No, just ‘weekend’. Not romantic, _ she scolded herself.

The next morning, Tissaia was jostled awake by Regis giving her a small squeeze before slipping away. A few minutes later, she heard the shower running.  _ Today’s the day, _ she thought. 

She yawned, and pulled herself out of bed, happily humming as she made her way to the closet. Tissaia had bought a new dress just for the occasion - a gorgeous burgundy off-the-shoulder gown with elbow-length lace sleeves and a long, flowing skirt. She hadn’t bought herself anything this fancy in a long time, and even then, she had picked one she thought Stregobor would like. This time, it was all for her. 

She pulled the dress out of the closet and felt a thrill again as she unzipped the bag and ran a hand down the smooth, satiny fabric. She decided to give it a steam when she showered, and temporarily hung the gown on the closet door. She retrieved her overnight bag, and began packing the other few things she would need for the weekend. 

She heard Regis turn the water off, and he stepped back into the bedroom a few moments later. When Tissaia turned to say good morning properly, the words died on her lips. Regis’ hair was damp and uncombed, and his feet were bare on the carpet, but he had pulled on an undershirt and his dress pants, with a pair of suspenders hanging from the waistband. 

“Um….” Tissaia’s mouth hung open as she searched desperately for the words she had meant to say. 

“‘Um’ what?” he asked with a smile.

“Um. You look nice,” she managed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. 

He looked down at himself and ran a hand through his wet hair. “Do I?” he asked, looking somewhat puzzled. His glance fell on the suspenders hanging from his pants, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he met her gaze again.

Tissaia blushed, suddenly remembering the night they had gotten a bit tipsy with Triss and she had drunkenly confessed to having a thing for suspenders… more specifically, a thing for  _ Regis _ in suspenders.  _ Why did I admit to that out loud? I’m going to die of embarrassment. _

Without turning away from her, Regis slipped into his dress shirt and began fastening the buttons. Tissaia couldn’t help but stare, as he ever-so-slowly slid his arms through the suspenders and pulled them up to his shoulders. She swallowed, hoping it was silent.

_ This is the opposite of a strip-tease, and it’s… hotter, somehow. This is so unfair. _

Her attention was drawn back to Regis’ face when he spoke. “So…” he said slyly, running a hand down the suspenders. “You fancy me in suspenders, then?”

Tissaia’s face felt like it was on fire. “I.... I just… I hadn’t meant to tell you that,” she stammered.

Regis took her hand, and kissed it. “You flatter me, Ms. de Vries.”

When he let her go, and reached for the vest that hung on the closet door, Tissaia grabbed her dress and quickly made her way into the bathroom, her heart racing.  _ Is he flirting with me or just teasing me? _

After she showered, the embarrassment gave way to excitement once more. Tissaia dried her hair, twisting it up into a more elaborate updo than her usual tight bun. After doing her makeup, she finally put on her dress and went back into the bedroom to stand in front of the full-length mirror. She had never felt more beautiful. 

Regis came up behind her, his eyes appearing soft in the mirror’s reflection. “You look…” he shook his head. “Words fail me, my darling. You are radiant.” 

“Thank you,” Tissaia whispered, blushing as she met his gaze in the mirror. “Zip me up?” She hadn’t been able to reach the last inch. 

“Of course.” He closed her zipper, then smiled at her thoughtfully in the mirror. “Something is missing though…” Regis pulled something out of his pocket and reached around her to fasten a delicate gold chain around her neck, resting his hands on her shoulders once he had finished. 

Tissaia gasped, bringing her hand up to touch the pendant sitting between her collarbones. It was an onyx stone in an elaborate gold setting, with a diamond resting in the middle of the black gem, making it a perfect match for the ring that Regis had given her. 

“Regis!” she exclaimed, completely shocked. “You didn’t have to- What is this for?” 

“A thank-you, a celebration…” He brushed a tendril of hair off her neck and smiled at her. “I would not have made it through without you, opening the Phoenix and rebuilding Corvo… I just wanted to give you something beautiful.” 

“It’s… thank you, I…” Tissaia couldn't find the words to express how she felt. She turned around and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Temple of Lilvani was a beautiful, old stone building on the coast, tucked into a bay, steps away from soft, golden sand. Tissaia’s breath caught when it appeared through the windshield. Regis glanced over at her and smiled. 

“It’s… gorgeous,” she breathed, taking in the soft, weathered edges of the building wrapped with creeping vines and stone towers piercing the blue sky. “What a place to get married…” 

“Yes, I’ve always thought so, too,” Regis said softly. 

The hotel was just down the shoreline, a short walk to the temple. They pulled into the parking lot, and Regis carried their bags in so they could check in before the ceremony. They were a little tight on time, so they just picked up their keys and left their bags with an attendant before heading straight to the temple. 

Tissaia wasn’t sure if it was the stunning building, or the fact that her side was pressed against Regis’ throughout, but it was the most romantic wedding ceremony she’d ever been to. Iris and Olgierd were practically glowing with happiness, and she found her eyes welling up at their vows. 

The temple had a large hall for receptions, with stone pillars ringing the room. One wall was almost entirely stained glass, and the middle panel was a set of doors that opened out onto a balcony overlooking the water. 

As they found their seats, Tissaia was surprised to see Gaunter O’Dimm a few tables over… next to Marla, of all people. She looked glamorous in her emerald green dress. Her curled hair was half-pulled back, revealing the chandelier earrings that tickled her throat. Tissaia had never seen Marla dressed up, and she had to admit it was a good look.

“Regis,” Tissaia said, tapping him on the arm. “Look, it’s Gaunter and Marla! I wonder how they know Iris and Olgierd?” 

Gaunter caught their eyes as he was raising his tumbler to his lips. He paused and inclined his head slightly in a silent greeting then turned to say something to Marla. 

“Hmm, that’s interesting,” Regis frowned. “I couldn’t say.” He didn’t have to wait long to ask though, because when they looked over again, Marla was eagerly towing Gaunter along behind her as she approached their table. 

“Regis, Tissaia,” she said, leaning over to brush her lips against their cheeks. “I figured we’d see you here.” 

“We can’t say the same,” Tissaia said, casting a sidelong glance at Gaunter. “Marla, you look absolutely gorgeous!” 

“Oh,” Marla waved her hand dismissively as her cheeks flushed, clearly pleased with the compliment. “ _ You _ look incredible!” 

“Indeed, you are both stunning,” Regis added as he stood up and extended his hand to Gaunter. “Mr. O’Dimm. How nice to see you again.” 

“Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy.” 

Hearing Gaunter’s deep, rich voice again gave Tissaia the shivers. 

“I don’t like to talk shop when I’m not working but…” Gaunter tugged at a cufflink and raised an eyebrow, “I hope you know that I am still working hard on your… situation.” 

“That is very kind of you, Mr. O’Dimm. And please, call me Regis.” 

“Gaunter.” 

“So how do you know Iris and Olgierd?” Tissaia asked, watching Gaunter slip his arm around Marla’s waist, his thumb tracing idle circles on her hip. Marla gave him a look of utter adoration. 

“Olgierd and I go way back,” Gaunter said, without elaborating.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Regis said politely. 

Gaunter raised his shoulder in a light shrug. “As I said, I don’t mix work with pleasure.” His fingers ran lightly up and down Marla’s arm as he spoke, and Tissaia was pretty sure she saw Marla shiver. 

“Well, we’ll have to catch up more later,” Marla said, glancing at the older gentleman who had situated himself at the podium next to the head table. “It looks like the wedding party is about to arrive.” 

The crowd began to make their way to their seats, and Yennefer and Cahir settled into the chairs next to Regis. They arched their eyebrows in unison at Tissaia in greeting and she felt herself shrink in her chair a bit. She knew they were coming together - Cahir was friends with Yen and Iris - but faced with their impossible cheekbones and dark, elegant beauty, Tissaia suddenly felt tiny and plain. 

But then Regis gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as he greeted them, and she was able to relax enough to grace them with a genuine smile. Yennefer was absolutely stunning in a black lace dress with cap sleeves, her hair falling in loose waves over one eye. Cahir was wearing a dapper, fitted suit that swathed his long form head to toe in black. 

Tissaia was rescued from having to make small talk with them by a sudden announcement from the man at the podium. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen… please stand for Mr. and Mrs. Olgierd and Iris von Everec!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wine that was served with dinner was rich and robust, and Tissaia felt herself relaxing despite the chill from Cahir. She had lost count of how many times her wine glass was refilled by the time the dancing started, and she thought about the last time she and Regis had been drunk together, and where that night had ended...

“Would it be rude of me to ask what’s on your mind, Ms. de Vries?” Regis’ voice jolted her from her memories. 

Tissaia’s face flushed to a deep crimson, as she tried desperately to stop thinking about how Regis’ teeth had felt on her neck. “Nothing,” she said quickly, taking a sip of her wine, and looking away.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile, the deep line appearing in his face as he leaned closer and wrapped his arm around her back, delicately tracing her shoulder with his fingertips.

“You know,” he said softly in her ear, “the more you blush, the deeper my curiosity roots itself.”

She glanced back at his face, and the image of him tousle-haired in suspenders that morning came unbidden to her mind. 

Regis’ smile had reached his eyes, as he regarded her thoughtfully. “Would you care to dance with me, Tissaia?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked around at all the other couples dancing. “I…. yes, I suppose it would look... awkward if we didn’t,” she stammered.

“Not especially,” Regis said. “People refrain from dancing at weddings all the time.” He sat back in his chair.

Tissaia finished her glass of wine and set it down, turning to the handsome man beside her. “I'd love to dance with you.” She felt the warmth spreading across her face, as Regis smiled at her. He rose to his feet, and offered her a hand.

On their way to the dance floor, Tissaia spied Marla and Gaunter making their way out the stained glass doors. Gaunter’s hand was pressed to Marla’s lower back, and heat of the look they shared threatened to melt the glass doors right off their hinges. 

Tissaia smiled knowingly.  _ I bet I can guess what they’ll be up to tonight. _

When they reached the floor, Tissaia looked at Regis. “I… don’t know how to dance, though,” she said apologetically, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well then,” Regis said softly, “it’s rather fortunate that you’ve been paired with someone who does know how to dance, Ms. de Vries.” He twirled her under his arm, and kissed her hand.

“You know what I’ve noticed?” she asked, trying to follow his lead, and struggling immensely.

“What might that be?” He pulled her in close, and held her waist so they were just swaying in place with the slow music.

Tissaia looked up at him slyly. “You only call me ‘Ms. de Vries’ when you’re being silly, or… or when you’re flirting.”

Regis’ lips curled upwards at the corners. “Is that right?”

She nodded, giggling at him. “Every other time, it’s ‘darling,’ unless you’re being serious, then you use my name.”

He held her just a bit closer, and leaned down to her ear. “And do you know  _ why _ I call you ‘darling’ so often, Ms. de Vries?” he whispered.

Tissaia’s heart was pounding. She ran her fingers across the silky lapels of his suit jacket.  _ The same one he wore to the coffee shop, the first night we went out, _ she remembered with a smile. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll tell me.” 

“Because,” he said, so close now that his lips grazed her skin as he spoke. “Once upon a time, I held a beautiful woman in my arms on her couch while we watched a movie together. And as she fell asleep, do you know what she said?”

Tissaia froze.  _ What did I tell him? _ she wondered. That night seemed so very long ago.

Regis pulled back ever so slightly to look at her face. “You told me that you enjoyed it when I called you ‘darling,’” he said. “And thus I have done so ever since.”

Her face fell. “Oh…”

“Do you not like it?” he asked quickly, noticing her expression.

“No, I  _ do,  _ very much.... I just… it isn’t…” Tissaia cleared her throat awkwardly.  _ Why am I still talking? There’s no way to avoid messing this up. _ “It… isn’t the same, if I asked you to,” she whispered, blushing furiously.

Regis laughed. “My dearest Tissaia,” he said, twirling her away from him, then pulling her back tighter. “May I share a secret with you?”

_ Dearest… _

“Okay,” she said, unable to stop the awkward smile from rising to her face. She ran her fingertips across the back of his collar.

“I’ve not had occasion to call anyone ‘darling’ in ten years.” Regis paused, pulling away slightly to look at her. “It just… slipped out, after the Christmas party last year, and I was glad to hear that the endearment pleased you, because... I daresay I enjoy using it.”

“I… Regis, I.... I don’t know what to say,” Tissaia stammered, as he kissed her cheek.

“Say you’ll give me another dance,  _ darling _ .”

“As many as you’d like,” she said, looking up at him with a smile.

Several dances later, Tissaia’s feet were beginning to hurt from the heels she was wearing, and she pulled Regis back to their table.

“Are you all right?” he asked, as she collapsed into her chair.

“Yes, I just need to take off these shoes.” She pulled off the beautiful, painful heels, and rubbed her feet for a moment. Satisfied that no blisters had begun to form, Tissaia stood up, and set the shoes down on her chair, then looked up at Regis. “You, sir, are  _ incredibly _ tall.” 

He laughed. “And you, my darling, are rather short. What a pair we make.” Regis smiled fondly at her, then glanced around the ballroom. A number of the guests were beginning to leave, and the staff had begun clearing the unused tables. “Perhaps we might retire to our room?” he suggested. 

“It’s still early. Are you tired?” Tissaia asked. She was a little disappointed that their magical evening was ending so soon.

“No, but I must confess I have a deep desire to remove my own shoes, and possibly change into something more comfortable,” Regis said, giving a slight tug to his tie. “How would you feel about perusing terrible hotel TV channels with a glass of wine?”

She laughed, and pushed some slightly sweaty wisps of hair off her forehead. “That sounds wonderful, actually.”

They gathered their things and made their way to the happy couple, who were dancing up a storm still, showing no signs of slowing.

“Olgierd, Iris, congratulations again! It was a lovely ceremony, and we wish you all the happiness in the world,” Regis said with a smile, hugging them both in turn.

“We’re glad you could make it, Regis. Thank you for coming! And you, Tissaia,” Iris said, beaming at them. “Soon, we’ll be the ones attending  _ your _ wedding!” she added.

Tissaia felt her cheeks flush, and Olgierd laughed. Regis took her hand, and headed for the doors. They had only taken a few steps away, when Olgierd called after them. 

“Oh, and Regis, we left you a gift basket…. You’ll find everything you need for the rest of the evening!” He winked at them and grinned. Regis waved back at him, and they made their way out the stained glass doors and down the stone steps to the soft, cooling sand. 

“I find myself somewhat  _ hesitant _ to open that gift basket," Regis told Tissaia with a chuckle. 

She laughed. "I'm sure it's nothing too terrible." She paused to slip her shoes off again, letting her feet sink into the sand.

When they reached their room, Regis pulled the keycard from his vest pocket, and held the door open for Tissaia. She flipped on the light switch, and the soft light of the desk lamp illuminated the hotel room. Tissaia set down her shoes in the open closet where the attendant had left their bags, and ventured into the room. On the king-size bed sat a large basket that held several wrapped gifts, one of which was obviously a bottle of wine.

“This is so cute!” She pulled on the curled ribbon on the basket, and it sprang back when she let go. “Shall we open it?” she asked, looking over at Regis. 

“In a moment,” he said, walking over to the window, which took up the entire wall. He pulled back the curtains and opened the sliding door. “Come and see.”

Tissaia walked over to where he stood, and they stepped out onto the balcony together. Their room overlooked the sea, and it stretched off endlessly into the horizon, fading into a velvet midnight-blue. The lighthouse on the pier lit up the darkness, and she could hear the crashing of the waves on the rocks in the distance. 

The warm breeze ruffled Tissaia’s hair, as she looked up to admire the blanket of twinkling stars in the sky above them. Regis’ arm slid around her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’ve never been to the coast before,” she whispered, trying to take in everything at once. “The view is so beautiful.”

He looked down at her, smiling fondly as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Indeed, it is.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

His hand curled around her hip. “Thank  _ you, _ for accompanying me. I would be enjoying myself far less without you.” 

They admired the view silently for a few minutes, then Regis gave her a squeeze, and went back inside, digging around his bag before disappearing into the bathroom.

Gazing down at the water, Tissaia let out a sigh. It seemed like magic every time Regis touched her, and she was having a wonderful time, but… she wondered,  _ Does he feel the same about me, or is it just nice to have someone to be close with after ten years? _

Things between them had clearly gone past the engagement ruse, at least in some undefined fashion. They enjoyed spending time together, and did nice things for one another... and Regis held her at night when no one could see. She pondered for a moment, then shook her head. Clearly she needed to think about it when she hadn’t had several glasses of wine. For tonight, Tissaia decided that she would just have a good time, and see where the romantic setting took them.

She went back into the room, shutting the sliding door behind her, and grabbed the pajama pants and t-shirt out of her bag. She was just beginning the struggle with the back of her dress, when Regis emerged from the bathroom. He had changed into his sleepwear, as well.

”Could you please unzip me?” she asked, turning her back to him. “I can’t reach.”

“Of course.” He gently pulled the zipper down the back of her dress, stopping at her waist. She hoped he couldn’t detect the goosebumps that appeared on her skin at the thought of him seeing her bare back.

“Thanks.” 

Tissaia shivered slightly as she slipped out of the dress in the privacy of the bathroom. She pulled on the pajamas, then looked in the mirror. She unfastened the onyx necklace, and tucked it into her cosmetics bag, then traced the place on her neck where Regis had left the bite-mark before. She couldn’t help but wonder if that experience would be repeated, and the thought excited her, as she exited the bathroom, and hung up her dress in the closet.

“I’ve taken the liberty of opening the first two gifts,” Regis announced, handing her a glass of wine. He clinked his matching glass with hers. “To Olgierd and Iris,” he toasted.

“May they have a really fun time tonight,” she giggled, taking a sip. It was a dark red wine, with oak and raspberry notes, and Tissaia loved it. She set her glass down on the nightstand, and sat on the bed, crossing her legs. “I think it’s my turn to open something,” she said, reaching for the basket. She picked out the largest of the three remaining gifts, and tore open the tissue paper, to reveal a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels.

“Excellent, a snack for our TV-watching enjoyment,” Regis said, seating himself facing her. He took the smallest gift and unwrapped it, then laughed, his face flushing just a bit.

“What is it?” Tissaia asked, looking from his face to the half-wrapped gift.

“I believe I know what Olgierd meant by ‘everything I needed’ being in the basket,” he said, handing her the small poof of tissue paper.

Tissaia pulled apart the paper, to find a package of condoms. She couldn’t stop the giggle that sprang from her lips, as she dropped the package back into the basket. She opened the last gift, which turned out to be a package of lubricant. She looked from the basket to Regis. “So they think we’re in here… having sex.”

“It certainly seems that way,” he said softly, looking at her with a lopsided grin.

Tissaia laughed. “Well, I think we can safely set this aside for now,” she said, setting the basket on the floor. She bunched up the pillows at the head of the bed, and leaned back, then picked up her wine glass and took a long sip. “I think you said something about watching terrible hotel TV?”

“Mmm.” Regis got up, and went to the other side of the bed, setting down his wine glass on the other nightstand, before settling himself in next to Tissaia. “Have you got the remote?”

She grabbed the remote from her nightstand and turned on the TV. Regis took his wine glass, and stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back against the wall of pillows she had made.

The reception was terrible, and they only got a few channels. One was a cartoon seemingly aimed at toddlers. On the next working channel, there was a documentary about penguins, then a whole channel dedicated to infomercials. They finally settled on a terrible soap opera. 

They both must have been getting slightly tipsy, because Regis couldn’t keep himself from laughing along with Tissaia at the cheesy show writing. Their hands met slowly between them, and Regis’ fingers wove their way between hers. 

“Well, there’s no sense in leaving half of this, so one last glass for us both, do you suppose?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle of wine on the nightstand beside her.

“Sounds good to me,” Tissaia said, grabbing the bottle. She divided it as evenly as possible between their two glasses, then held her glass up, looking at Regis. “To- what are we toasting now?”

He thought for a moment, then smiled. “To us,” he said, clinking his glass to hers once more.

Tissaia giggled. “To us. May we have fun tonight, too… although maybe not as much as we are apparently intended to.” 

After their wine was gone, and the glasses were set off to the side, they leaned into each other more. Regis’ arm wrapped around Tissaia’s shoulder, and his fingers stroked up and down her arm, sending goosebumps up her neck, and the side of her face.

“You like to touch, when you’re drinking,” she said, leaning back on Regis’ shoulder, and looking up at him.

His hand stilled against her. “Is that a bad thing?” 

“No, I like it… a lot, actually,” she said, finding his other hand with hers. “I just noticed, that’s all.”

“I’ve always been a very touch-oriented person,” Regis said, looking at their hands. He gently traced around her fingers, and onto the other side of her hand, down her wrist, and back again. “I suppose it just... becomes more prevalent, when I am inebriated.” 

Tissaia smiled, enjoying the tingly feeling his touch left on her skin. “I like it,” she repeated. She turned to face Regis, and he brought his arm down to fit between the curve of her waist and the bed, turning onto his side to hold her closer. His lips curled into a smile that spread across his face, and the deep line formed as he closed his eyes tightly, then looked at her again.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, as their hands resumed their dance of feather-light touches.

Regis narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “I hardly think it’s fair to ask me to reveal my thoughts, when you simply blush and deny my requests for yours,” he said wryly. “Perhaps if you were to tell me what you were thinking about at the reception, I might share my thoughts with you.”

Tissaia didn’t think her face had ever been so red. “I… I was just…” Her lips pulled into an anxious forced smile as she fumbled for words. “I was thinking about… the last time you and I were drinking together, how you had…” she brought her hand to her neck, and trailed off, blushing furiously.

If Regis was embarrassed or shocked, his face certainly didn’t show it. Tissaia’s breath caught when Regis turned the TV off, then gazed at her for a moment, the lamplight reflected in his dark eyes. “Would you still like to know my thoughts, Ms. de Vries?” he asked softly, untangling his hand from hers to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

“Of course I do,” Tissaia whispered, watching the color rise to his face. She gasped, as his other hand delicately traced the small line of exposed skin between her shirt and pajama pants.

“When you asked, I had been thinking about how much I'd like to kiss you…” Regis looked away, his face turning ever so slightly more red. “But now, I am remembering how lovely you made my name sound that evening." He paused, then slowly met Tissaia’s eyes again. “Please forgive my forwardness, I know I’ve taken certain… liberties with you, and it’s not my intention to-”

“Emiel,” Tissaia cut him off. She gently brushed his face with her fingers, settling her hand behind his neck. “There is nothing forward about what you just said, especially since I… since I’ve been thinking about that night, too.”

Regis’ eyes widened slightly. He half-blinked, then brought his hand up under Tissaia’s hair to cradle her head. One of his fingertips grazed the back of her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Tissaia, darling, I wonder if I might…”

“Yes, please do,” she whispered breathlessly. 

Every second seemed to last a lifetime as he moved in closer, pausing ever so slightly before bringing his lips to hers. Tissaia’s fingers buried themselves in his hair, and she tilted her head slightly, deepening their kiss. She lost herself in the feeling of how soft his lips felt against hers. His tongue slowly teased her lips apart, before settling into a steady dance with hers, exploring her mouth while his hand gently stroked her lower back beneath her shirt.

When they finally pulled apart, Regis smiled at her. “I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time,” he confessed, running his hand through her hair. 

Tissaia smiled back at him shyly, her heart pounding. “I’ve tried so hard to find a way to tell you that I like kissing you… I’ve just never been able to find the words. And then there was the fire and the renovations… There was just so much going on...”

“I know,” he said gently, and his smile grew wider. He pulled her flush against him, and brought his lips to hers again in another kiss, more passionate than the first, his tongue hungrily seeking out hers. Tissaia held him tightly against her by his hair. Her teeth grazed his lower lip as he pulled back slightly to look at her. The fire in his eyes was plain to see.

_ He wants me.  _ The notion gave Tissaia’s heart wings.

Regis planted small kisses along her jaw,and she giggled when his whiskers tickled her face. He gently tilted her head to the side, and Tissaia sighed with the pleasure of his lips meeting her neck. His teeth brushed her skin lightly, and she melted into his chest at the feeling of his tongue swirling against her. 

She moaned softly, when he once again found the sensitive place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The noise seemed to fuel Regis’ passion, and he sucked a small section of her skin into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he had done before.

Tissaia could hardly bear the intensity of all the sensations at once, with the pressure on her neck, and the way his fingertips teased her lower back, she felt as though she might burst. When his teeth dug into her skin, she couldn’t hold it in. “Please,” she begged, “gods, Emiel,  _ please,  _ I- oh!” Her leg wrapped around his waist, and she clung to him desperately as he dragged his teeth roughly across her delicate flesh.

Regis’ teeth released her, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her throat before pulling away to look at her. He dropped his hand to hold her thigh against his hip, and Tissaia pulled him in for another bruising kiss.

Tissaia was starting to feel dizzy when they finally pulled away from each other, breathless and wanting. She brought her hands to Regis’ jaw, and ran her thumbs down his face, following the lines of his smile into the soft silver hair under his cheekbones.

“Don’t ever think you’re being forward by kissing me,” she whispered, enjoying the feeling of his long fingers curling around her thigh. 

“You don’t find this the slightest bit forward, Ms. de Vries?” he asked playfully, pressing another kiss to her lips.

Tissaia laughed, shaking her head. “If I remember correctly, I think I said you can kiss me whenever you’d like.”

“If I were to do that,” Regis said, gently squeezing her thigh. “However would I get anything else done throughout the day?”

She smiled as her heart skipped a beat. He kissed her again, and she could feel his smile against her lips. His other hand pulled her in just a bit tighter, and Tissaia could feel  _ just how much _ Regis wanted her, from the hardness that pressed into her. 

“Regis, I… I  _ really _ like kissing you, and everything we’ve been doing, but…” Tissaia looked away, suddenly feeling like the prude her ex-husband had always called her. “I don’t think I’m ready to… go any further, just yet.” The last part was just a whisper, and she looked back at his face, hoping she hadn’t ruined the moment.

Regis loosened his tight hold on her back, and pulled his lower body away, but he still held her close enough that his chest met hers. “I apologize for my… fervor,” he said, blushing. “I have no intention of being more intimate with you tonight, my darling. We’ve both had quite a bit to drink, and I feel that would be… improper, even if you were ready.” He paused, looking at her carefully for a moment, then looked down. “I don’t believe I am quite ready, either. It’s been… a long time for me.”

He gently brought her leg down from his hip, and rested his hand on the curve of her waist. “It may seem odd of me, but I don’t see intimacy as an inevitable build-up to sex. I enjoy touching you, kissing you, being close to you… it’s a journey of sorts, and every part is wonderful.” Regis slowly met Tissaia’s eyes again. “I would prefer to take my time, if you’ll allow me.” 

Tissaia looked at him, her heart swollen with his words. “Is it… would it be okay, if we went over all of this again tomorrow?” she asked softly, running her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. “I want to know that we’ll both remember, and that it’s not....” she stopped herself.

“Not what?”

“Not… just something you’re saying because we’re drunk,” she finished, looking away from him.

“Perhaps over breakfast,” Regis said, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. “I believe I’ve left quite the reminder, if we should forget.” He smiled slyly, and Tissaia laughed. She had no doubts that everyone would be able to guess what she and Regis had been up to that night, by looking at her neck.

“Someday, I’m going to leave one on  _ you, _ ” Tissaia said, half-teasingly. 

Regis’s eyes widened slightly, and seemed to darken. “Is that a threat, Ms. de Vries?”

“Do you feel threatened?” she giggled, bringing a hand to her face to brush away the strands of hair her pins were failing to contain. Flirting with Regis was fun, more exciting than anything else she’d ever done.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asked mischievously, trailing his fingertips delicately across the exposed skin on her waist. “Though, I must warn you, darling… you should never make threats you are unwilling to carry out.” 

Tissaia wasn’t sure if it was his touch or his words that made the goosebumps raise from her skin, but it felt electrifying, and she loved it.

“I think I’ll wait until you aren’t expecting it,” she said slyly. She ran her hand over his hip, and up his ribs. Regis was incredibly thin for how soft his hugs always felt. 

He took her lips again, softer and slower this time. She relished the pull of his lips on hers, the soft sighing noises he made, his intoxicating smell. His hands travelled over her back and arms, and hips, until she felt like nothing but putty in his hands, her body melting into the mattress. 

As it got later into the night, Tissaia felt her eyes growing heavy. Their kissing slowed, until they fell asleep, nose to nose, wrapped in each other’s arms. Tissaia dreamt she was dancing with Regis on the beach, while the stars hung low in the sky. They sank lower and lower until she could reach up and touch them, the fluorescence leaping from her fingers and showering them in a silver light. Even though it was just a dream, it mirrored how Tissaia really felt - the happiest she had been in a long time.


	14. The Coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tissaia and Regis have a talk about where their relationship stands, then enjoy breakfast and a lovely day together on the coast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so sorry for the delay, but are very excited to get a new chapter out to you! It’s a short one, just to get the ball rolling. We were both feeling a little stuck and distracted with other things, but we are back in the groove and are hard at work on chapter 15! Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and patience xo

Tissaia woke to the familiar, comforting weight and warmth of Regis tucked behind her in bed. She smiled and allowed herself a small stretch, then suddenly the memory of kissing him last night crashed over her like a wave. 

_ That actually happened. For real. _ Tissaia was beside herself with happiness at the thought.  _ And it wasn’t because anyone was watching. It was because we both wanted to. _

The nagging voice in her head that always had some way of twisting in the ‘what-ifs’ had nothing to add for once. Regis’ words, echoing in her mind like a song, had silenced it at last:  _ “I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” _

And then, as she raised her head slightly to look at the clock, the headache hit her. Tissaia groaned inwardly, pressing a hand to her forehead.  _ Okay, maybe the wine had something to do with all the kissing, too.  _

Desperate to pee and get a drink of water, she slipped out of the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. Running a hand through her hair, she dug an aspirin out of her toiletry bag and took it with a glass of water from the tap. 

Tissaia splashed her face, and figured she might as well brush her teeth, too. When she set down her toothbrush and glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her face split into a wide smile at the sight of the mark on her neck. It was darker than the previous one, and about the same size, with a perfect imprint of his teeth.

Suitably refreshed, Tissaia slid back into the warm bed. Regis wiggled closer, mumbling incoherently. His arm wove around her, and his nose tickled the back of her neck. She smiled and laced her fingers between his. She didn’t want to wake him, but it was difficult to keep from squirming at last night’s memories. 

It was only a moment later when he stirred against her, and then she felt his lips lightly brushing the back of her neck. 

“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin, causing an instant trail of goosebumps down her back. Tissaia felt Regis roll over, and she was momentarily disappointed that he didn’t want to cuddle.

“I’ll be right back, darling,” he said reassuringly. “Keep my place warm for me, won’t you?” 

Regis popped out of the bed but was back only a minute later, pulling Tissaia tight against him and kissing the back of her neck again. 

“Hi,” she whispered, rolling over to greet him with a smile. 

His dark eyes crinkled when he smiled back at her. “Hi.” 

Tissaia suddenly felt a little shy, as she looked at him. Regis was the same as he’d ever been: sweet, soft, and handsome. But something had changed in the way he looked at her, and it filled her stomach with butterflies and made her fidgety and unsure of what to say.

“Do you…” She cleared her throat. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry. “Do you remember… last night?”

He nodded slowly, bringing his hand up to hold the side of her head, and ran his thumb across her jaw. Tissaia let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding. 

“I was worried that… you might not,” she whispered, laying her arm across his waist.

Regis’ smile widened. His hand shifted slightly, and his fingers curled around the back of her head, as he leaned in to kiss her gently. He had brushed his teeth as well, she noticed, and his lips were minty-fresh and soft against hers. 

After a moment, Regis pulled away to look at her. “I doubt I could ever forget last night, even if I lived to be 100.” His fingertips lightly traced the mark on her neck, and Tissaia could see the smile dancing in his eyes, along with the reflection of the light coming from the window behind her. 

“If memory continues to serve, I believe a conversation was to be had this morning, my darling.” Regis’ hand glided across her shoulder, and down to the curve of her waist, holding her close to him. His knee slid between hers, and Tissaia curled her ankle around his calf.

“I… yes. We need to… to talk about  _ us, _ or what we want… to do,” she stammered awkwardly, looking away.  _ Feelings are so hard. _ The what-ifs had begun to creep into Tissaia’s mind again, and she was getting buried in all the possibilities of rejection when Regis squeezed her waist just a bit tighter.

“What are you afraid of?” His voice startled her, and she looked back to his eyes.

“I... I just…” She toyed nervously with the collar of his t-shirt.  _ Gods, he smells so nice. _ “I’m afraid I’ll seem overbearing, or that… that I’m more interested than you are.”  _ Or that I’m a stand-in for Dettlaff. _ The words came to her mind out of nowhere, and Tissaia felt ashamed and embarrassed for even thinking them.  _ Regis would never! _ she scolded herself.

Regis’ other hand emerged from under the pillow, to nestle gently against the back of her head. “More interested than I am?” He looked genuinely surprised, his eyes wide and lips parted slightly. “How could you be? Tissaia, I....” He paused, and cleared his throat. “I’ve been  _ smitten _ with you, for quite some time.” 

_ He WHAT? _

Color rose to his face as he looked away, fidgeting with his rings against her hip. “I’ve felt rather guilty about it, for…. several reasons, not the least of which being that you work for me.” Regis met her eyes again, and Tissaia could see the warring emotions flickering on his face for just a moment. “But… I’m a weak man in the end. I cannot help but enjoy being close with you, and in doing so… my darling, I’ve fallen for you.”

Tears rose to Tissaia’s eyes at his words, and her hand settled into the warm hollow between his neck and shoulder.  _ He fell for me, too…. Is this a dream? _

“Regis, I… I don’t know what to say,” she began, but then stopped herself.  _ It took a lot of courage for him to say what he just said, and he deserves a full response, _ she told herself. 

Taking a deep breath, Tissaia began again. “I’ve… had feelings for you since the first time we went out for dinner, maybe even before that. I tried to hold back for a long time, but… you made me remember what it was like to be happy, and I…” she trailed off.  _ How do I put it into words? _ “I’ve had a hard time with my... situation, and you’ve been there through the hardest parts, lifting me up when things seemed unbearable.” Their eyes met, and Regis’ hand found hers. “And regardless of the circumstances that pushed us together... I’ve never been as happy as I’ve been with you.”

“Tissaia… do you- that is to say, would you like....” he stammered softly, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_ This is it. This is the moment.  _ Tissaia watched him with wide eyes, transfixed to his every word.  _ Please… _

Regis’ eyes opened, and his fingers wrapped around hers just the tiniest bit tighter. “I would  _ very much _ like to have… a romantic relationship with you, Tissaia,” he whispered. “If you’ll have me.”

“If I’ll have you?” she repeated incredulously. Tissaia saw the shadow of doubt flicker in his eyes as she leaned in closer. “Of course I’ll have you, Emiel.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then pulled away to look at him. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“After all the misfortune and loss we’ve both suffered, I would say that we deserve a little happiness,” Regis shifted just a bit closer, his lips ghosting a kiss on her cheek. “And I would be… I  _ am _ happy… with you.”

“So what do we tell everyone? That we’re engaged but we’ve just started dating?” she joked.

Regis’ eyes flicked to the ring on her hand, and he smiled. “I think,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers, “it’s enough for you and I to know.”

“Deal,” she sighed happily, and wrapped her ankle further around his leg. She relaxed into the bed, feeling the joy bubbling up in her throat and threatening to burst out with either manic laughing or crying. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself to enjoy the gentle circles Regis traced on her hip. 

Tissaia let herself doze off on her cloud of happiness, until a loud bird call on the balcony jolted her from her reverie. She reluctantly looked back at the clock on the bedside table and groaned. “Checkout is in 30 minutes.” 

Regis sighed. “Well, I suppose we need to eat, too. There’s a wonderful little café on the waterfront just past the temple. May I take you to breakfast?” 

“That sounds amazing, actually.” Tissaia gave him one more soft kiss -  _ I can kiss him whenever I want now!  _ \- and reluctantly pried herself out of bed. 

She showered quickly so Regis could have a turn after her, and pulled on a short, lacy yellow sundress that Triss had insisted she also buy for the weekend away. She left her hair down, enjoying the wave it got in the sea air as it dried. 

She found herself grinning at absolutely nothing as she packed her things, then she stepped out onto the balcony for one last look at the view before they had to leave. It was another gorgeous day, with a slight breeze, and only a few scattered white clouds dotting the pure blue sky. 

Tissaia leaned on the railing, getting lost in her thoughts as she watched the gulls swoop and dive over the waves, the gentle sounds of the sea filling the background with a peaceful ambience. She heard the door slide open behind her, then Regis came into view beside her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and held her close, his fingertips gently stroking up and down her arm.

“Do we have to leave?” Tissaia sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Regis planted a soft kiss in her hair. “At least we’ll be going home together.” The happiness in his voice hung in the air, causing the warm feeling in Tissaia’s chest to bloom further.

_ Our home… together.  _ Suddenly, the idea of leaving Temeria didn’t seem quite so dreary.

She looked up at him and smiled, taking in the way the breeze ruffled his hair. “Then let’s go eat.” 

~*~

Café du Lune was a small, thatched cottage with a terrace of grey stone that matched the temple. The bricks sprawled out towards the ocean, and vine-covered trellises provided shade in the warm summer sun. Their table was on the very edge of the terrace, and the ocean waves rolled in and out only a few steps away. 

Regis eyed the bouquet Tissaia placed next to her water glass. “Reliving your moment of glory, are we?” He grinned at her with a raised eyebrow. 

Tissaia shrugged casually. “I mean, it was pretty spectacular.” Then she laughed. “They’re just so pretty… I wanted to look at them some more.” The violet roses looked lovely against the soft blue of the tablecloth, and the lavender stems surrounding them accented their vibrant color, adding a subtle fragrance. All in all, the bouquet had been perfect for Iris.

“I can’t say I blame you,” Regis said, admiring the roses. “The flowers were all lovely… and I had no idea you could jump that high.” 

Tissaia laughed again. “Neither did I!” 

When Iris had called the single women to the floor for the bouquet toss, Tissaia had reluctantly joined, only because Marla had nearly dragged her up there (Tissaia noticed that Marla was also steering clear of Yennefer). But when Tissaia saw the bouquet soaring towards her, well… the next thing she knew, her feet had left the floor and her hand was outstretched, reaching high above the crowd of jostling women around her. 

When she landed with the bouquet clenched firmly in her grip, her eyes found Regis’ watching her from the edge of the floor, and she laughed, waving the bouquet at him. It had seemed funny, since their fake wedding was looming, but now… her stomach fizzed again at her new reality. 

“What’s good here?” she asked, picking up a menu and smiling brightly. 

“Their house specialty, Eggs Benedict au Lune, is to die for. Sweet crab with avocado… you really must try it.” Regis reached across the small table to point to an item on her menu, and Tissaia’s heart fluttered when his fingers gently brushed against hers.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful,” she nodded. The picture on the menu made her mouth water.  _ All that kissing really builds an appetite. _

“Although…” Regis frowned at the menu. “It would truly be a shame for you to miss a chance to try their crêpes, they positively melt in the mouth… perhaps we should share the eggs and the crêpes? Oh, but their pastries…” 

Tissaia smiled at him. “I’ve missed this.”

“This?” 

“Eating at a restaurant together, just the two of us. We haven’t done it in so long…” 

Regis looked up from his menu. “You’re right. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve found myself missing our little getaway meals. Things have been… rather full on, haven’t they?” 

“It’s okay… they’ll settle down soon enough.” 

“Regardless… let’s do this again soon, shall we?” 

Tissaia grinned. “Are you asking me on a date, Emiel?”

Regis smiled at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps I am.”

In the end, it was too hard to decide between the menu options that Regis had pointed out, so they ordered the Eggs Benedict au Lune, strawberry crêpes with a cream cheese filling, and a plate of assorted pastries. Once their plates were cleared, Regis reached across the table to take her hand, his thumb trailing over the back of her fingers while they waited for their bill.

When they left the café, they both stopped and stared at Regis’ car, then turned and looked back at the water. 

“You know.... it’s still rather early. How would you feel about a short stroll down the beach?” Regis suggested. “Before our drive back, I mean.”

“You read my mind.” Tissaia kicked off her shoes, and they wandered down the beach, hand in hand. A ‘short stroll’ turned into a long walk, and the long walk turned into exploring the shoreline and looking for interesting shells and pebbles. Regis had abandoned his shoes and socks as well, and rolled up his pants to reveal another raven wrapped around his right ankle, its wings stretched out onto his foot. 

They were having a wonderful time wading in the sea up to their ankles, picking up shells, and looking for fish, when Regis’ arm wrapped around Tissaia’s waist. She looked up with a grin, and her heart throbbed with an indescribable joy at the sight. Regis’ hair glowed in the sunlight reflected off the water, and she could see the rare light brown flecks in his eyes as he looked back at her, but what really took her breath away was the pure, carefree happiness on his face. 

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” he said softly, running a hand through the waves of her hair. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, and today it seems you wear the sun like a halo. It’s… breathtaking.”

“Emiel, I… that’s so sweet,” Tissaia said, unable to help the blush that accompanied her wide smile at his words. “I was just thinking how… how handsome you look when you’re so happy.”  _ I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to being able to tell him things like that. _

Regis’ smile widened, and he glanced to the side. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to capture the moment for us to remember. Perhaps we can climb up that rock, and take some pictures?” Tissaia’s eyes followed his hand to a large boulder that sat a short distance away in a foot of water, its wave-beaten surface glistening in the sun. 

“My dress will get soaked-” she began.

“Would you be opposed to letting it dry in the sun?” Regis’ grin looked like he was up for the challenge. 

Tissaia beamed at him and shook her head.  _ After all, _ she thought,  _ who am I to say ‘no’ to cute pictures with my new…. boyfriend? Partner? Whatever we are… we should have at least one picture of today. _

They splashed their way through the water to the rock, and Regis climbed up first, pulling Tissaia after him. The rock was warm on her bare legs, and the breeze rippled through her hair. With Regis’ arm around her waist, and her feet dangling in the water, everything was almost too perfect, like it was a dream. Tissaia’s attention was drawn from the water when Regis’ hand buried itself in her hair. She turned to him, and his lips met hers in a soft kiss. 

His hair was blown out of its normal back sweep into his face, and it gave a youthful glimmer to his appearance. Tissaia’s fingers ran through his whiskers, and she smiled. Regis pulled out his phone, and took a few pictures of them, then surprised her by kissing her again for a picture. 

“No one gave me a copy of that Valentine’s Day picture,” he explained with a smirk. “I must admit I’ve felt rather slighted.”

Tissaia laughed. “You can take as many pictures of us kissing as you’d like, as long as you send me a copy of them all.”

They made their way back to the shore to let their clothes air-dry a bit, and chased a few seagulls away from their shoes. It wasn’t until the tide started to come in again that Tissaia dared to look at the time. 

Regis gave a rueful chuckle. “It’s that time, isn’t it?” 

“I’m afraid so. The real world beckons.” Tissaia gave a playful groan.

“Well,” he said, taking one of her hands. “I meant what I said this morning… we’re going home together, so the real world isn’t all bad, is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” 

They drove home to the sounds of Rachmaninoff’s piano concertos, chatting easily about details for the upcoming grand opening and shooting ideas back and forth for the new Corvo layouts.

Tissaia watched Regis’ profile as he drove, his soft eyes sparkling. She could hardly believe that her “real world” now included a romance with him... for real. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out LovelyRita’s Geraskier romcoms [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/works). 
> 
> If you're on board the soft Regis train, check out Gryphonheart's story [An Unexpected Wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155211/chapters/60954943). 
> 
> [LovelyRita1967 on Twitter](https://twitter.com/LovelyRita1967) (18+)  
> [Lovelyrita1967 on Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovelyrita1967)  
> [Gryphonheart on Twitter](https://twitter.com/Skyiah_Raine)
> 
> Kudos are so appreciated, and each and every comment gives us actual life.


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